


Farther Than You Can Throw

by LtTanyaBoone



Category: NCIS
Genre: Canonical Character Death, Episode Tag, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-09-27
Updated: 2013-07-28
Packaged: 2017-11-15 03:54:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 31
Words: 43,250
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/522861
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LtTanyaBoone/pseuds/LtTanyaBoone
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>S10 McGiva episode tags. *now complete*</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. 10x01 tag

**Author's Note:**

> These are episode tags to S10 of NCIS, and while they do not pick up exactly where I left things at the end of ["Fools Who Fell Behind"](http://archiveofourown.org/works/522874), the development of the McGiva relationship in that work is still the base for this one.

**Disclaimers:** NCIS, the rights to the show and its characters do not belong to me. No money was made by this.  
 **Spoilers:** S10, AU  
 **Pairing:** Tim McGee/Ziva David romance  
 **Rating:** FRT

* * *

If an ending is a start  
Are you ready on your mark  
Get ready, set and go  
Maybe farther than you can throw  
This year let's believe in luck

~ _**CTRL - ALT - DEL**_ _ _by Blip Blip Bleep__

* * *

Looking down and seeing the glass sticking out of his abdomen, Tim suddenly felt lightheaded. His knees turned to jell-o, but Gibbs caught him before he could collapse. The older man called out for someone to get a paramedic as he transferred Tim into a chair, pressing his finger’s against the younger man’s neck sharply to check his pulse.

“Easy, come on Tim.” he muttered, reaching up with the other hand and holding his neck. “Steady breaths.” he reminded the younger man.

“Boss, I don’t feel too good.” Tim admitted, swallowing thickly. Gibbs looked at his green face and quickly upended a trashcan before holding it out to him.

“Someone’s gonna take a look at this in a second, you just hang in there, McGee.” the team leader told him, squeezing his neck. Tim held onto the trashcan, drawing slow, deliberate breaths as he nodded mutely.

* * *

Ziva stood from the floor, hammering against the metal of the elevator doors.

“They’re not gonna open.” Tony reminded her, cracking open one of his eyes. Ziva rested her hands against the doors and hung her head, drawing a slow breath.

This was driving her crazy. Not only was she stuck in an elevator and hot as hell, but she was stuck with Tony, and on top of that she had no idea where Tim was. What had happened to him, if he had made it out of the building-

“Hey.” Tony’s voice was soft as he touched her shoulder and Ziva jumped in surprise, turning quickly so he wouldn’t notice the tears in her eyes.

“How much longer are we going to be stuck in here?” she asked, reaching up to wipe the sweat off her forehead and subtly wiping at the tears. It wasn’t just Tim she was worried about; there were Abby and Gibbs, too, and the director, and all the other employees. Not to mention her and Tony themselves. The elevator had already slipped once, there was debris on top of it for sure, and Ziva had no idea what would happen if the weight suddenly became to much and the elevator went rushing down or the ceiling caved in.

“Gonna take them some time, I guess.” Tony shrugged, burying his hands in the pockets of his pants. “You okay?” he asked her gently and Ziva turned around, swallowing thickly. Tony inclined his head briefly, searching her face.

“I’m sure he’s fine.” he softly said and Ziva drew a shuddering breath before she nodded.

“Yes. Yes, you are probably right.” she nodded, reaching up to pinch the bridge of her nose before she straightened and squared her shoulders. It wouldn’t help either of them if she broke down now, there was plenty of time after they got out of this death trap.

Just when she was about to say so, the doors slowly opened and her and Tony stared in surprise before dropping down when Abby appeared.

“I have never been more glad to see your gorgeous face.” Ziva smiled at her friend, accepting the water bottle from her and taking a sip before she handed it to Tony.

“What’s the status?” Tony asked the Forensic Scientist and Ziva searched her face for the indications of an injury, only half listening.

“What?” she suddenly broke out of her trace, staring at Abby. “Tim is what?” she repeated, her heart thundering in her chest when she saw Abby’s eyes widen.

“Well, they just brought him out. He got injured by a shard of glass, and-”

“Ziva, hey!” Tony exclaimed when Ziva swiveled around on the floor, getting ready to fit through the opening in the doors. He grabbed her arm and attempted to pull her back, but she glared at him.

“I have to get to him.” the Israeli told him. Tony searched her face before sighing.

“Abby, try to catch her.” he muttered, helping Ziva squeeze through the opening and wincing when both women tumbled to the ground.

“Sorry, are you alright?” Ziva asked, helping Abby up and barely waiting long enough for her to confirm it before she started hurrying towards the stairs, trying to make her way down and out of the building as fast as she could.

* * *

“I’m fine.” Tim murmured between kisses.

“I beg to differ.” Ziva nodded pointedly at the band aid on his abdomen, stroking his cheek gently. Her fiancé rolled his eyes.

“Yeah, well, my girlfriend’s into guys with scars, I thought I better get one, too.” he tried a joke, but Ziva gave him a glare before she shook her head and kissed him again.

“You don’t have to stay, I can manage on my own.” Tim assured her, wincing lightly when he sat up in his bed. Ziva shook her head again, nodding towards the IV tube she had been hooked up with.

“They want to keep me, anyway. Dehydration, possible concussion.”

“And you’re not going to sign yourself out?” Tim raised an eyebrow pointedly, allowing her to help him into a t-shirt.

“I was going to, but then I found out that my fiancé would stay over night as a precaution.” she told him and Tim gave up, resting back against his pillows.

“You can’t stay in my room, though.” he pointed out, but Ziva merely shrugged.

“They’re free to try and remove me.” she said, reaching out for his hand and squeezing it hard as she sat down on his bed. “You scared me.” she muttered, rubbing her thumb over his knuckles. “When Abby said that you got injured and had been taken to the hospital…” she trailed off, shaking her head quickly as she bit her lip.

“Hey.” Tim muttered, reaching out to touch her cheek so she’d look at him. “It was just a scratch.”

“You had glass sticking out of you!” Ziva protested.

“And now I don’t.” Tim pointed out. “It hurt nothing vital, it’s just gonna be a scar and hurt a bit, that’s all.”

His fiancée drew a shuddering breath, nodding.

“I’m not going to bite the dust. Not now that we’re getting married.” he added with a grin, coaxing one out of Ziva, too.

“You’re still saying yes?” she asked, suddenly worried that they had gotten caught up in the rush of it, that he had merely agreed because of the moment when she had proposed. But Tim furrowed his brows at her.

“Are you kidding me? Of course I am!” he exclaimed, pulling her in for a kiss. “You know what’s the first thing on my agenda, after we get Dearing?” he asked her softly, resting his forehead against hers.

“No, what?” Ziva muttered, running her hands over his torso.

“Getting you a ring.” he told her, tugging gently on her still naked ring finger. “And I was wondering, wanna come with me? Get a vote in it? Seems only fair, since actually you were the one proposing.”

“Perhaps I should be getting you a ring.” Ziva joked before shaking her head as she entwined their fingers. “And I think I’ll let you surprise me with it.” she decided.

Tim searched her face, rubbing his nose against hers. “How you holding up?” he asked her softly. Ziva opened her mouth but shook her head, leaning back. “Hey, Ziva. Talk to me.”

She drew a slow breath, reaching up to pinch the bridge of her nose to keep the tears at bay.

“I keep thinking of… of when Tali died.” she admitted. “It’s silly, the bombings had nothing in common, but for some reason…” she trailed off. She felt him squeeze her hand and gave him a soft smile.

“Well, people died in both of them. Someone you cared about was injured…” Tim pointed out.

“Yeah, maybe it’s that. Maybe that’s why I was so scared about you.” Ziva admitted, furrowing her brows. “My father called me.” she told him, making Tim’s eyebrows shoot up.

“He did?” he asked and Ziva nodded, a soft smile tugging on her lips.

“Tony and I were still stuck in the elevator. He saw what had happened on the news and got reports and… I guess he was worried.”

Tim squeezed her hand wordlessly, watching as her face darkened slightly.

“He was lucky that I had any reception in there. If he had called and I hadn’t picked up…” Ziva exhaled, remembering that her father already had believed her to be dead for months once.

“He would’ve just had to wait.” Tim shrugged. Ziva suddenly remembered that she wasn’t the only one who had an estranged father.

“Do you want me to call someone for you?” she asked him carefully. “Penny? It’s been all over the news, even outside the US.”

“She’s on some cruise in Europe.” Tim frowned. “I don’t even know where my phone is.”

“We’ll get to it in the morning.” Ziva decided when Tim let out a yawn and settled back into the pillows. “Get some rest. I’m right here.” she assured him. She watched as he closed his eyes and his face slowly relaxed, the hold he had on her hand slackening.

“Sweet dreams.” Ziva whispered, continuing to watch him sleep, unable to believe just how lucky they had all been this time around.


	2. 10x02 tag

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Paint samples lead to a discussion of housing issues.

Tim was sitting at the table in the break room, flipping through the paint samples and tilting his head at one of the softer yellow hues. It didn't look bad, not too cold and soft enough not to blind people.

“After having to live with orange for years, you want yellow now?” Ziva asked, adjusting her hold on her chopsticks before she delved into her carton of Chinese noodles again. Her fiancée startled, as if surprised by her presence. Ziva raised an eyebrow at him, prompting McGee to shake his head and finally open his own container of food, feeling hungry all of a sudden. With a sigh, he noticed that Ziva hadn’t bothered picking up a fork for him, so he got up and went to get himself one. When he closed the drawer again, he hesitated, leaning against the counter.

“You know, I was thinking…” he started, crossing his arms. Ziva gave him an encouraging look, trying to swallow her bite. “Where are we going to live?” Tim asked, watching as she furrowed her brows and grabbed her bottle of water to wash the food down.

“What do you mean, where are we going to live?” Ziva asked, dapping her mouth with the napkin as he slowly came back to the table, sticking his fork into his container but not picking it up again.

“I mean, after we get married.” Tim clarified. “We both have apartments that are on the bigger side for just one person living in them, and it works out when we’re staying at each other’s place, but living in either one of them, together? With a German Shepherd?”

Ziva slowly leaned back in her chair and took another sip of her drink. “I never thought about that.” she admitted, her voice soft. When she saw Tim’s face fall, she hastened to clarify.

“It’s not that I don’t want to live in an apartment with you, or that I regret proposing. But … I guess it’s because I haven’t thought of our places like that in a while. As mine and yours, I mean. They’ve been ours to me, both of them, I didn’t realize…” she trailed off, frowning before she shook her head.

“You’re right, though. Neither place has enough space to not have us drive each other crazy. Never mind that there’s no way your things would fit in my apartment or mine in yours.” Ziva added, stealing a chip and munching on it.

“I guess we’ll have to move, then.” Tim slowly said, watching her face closely. His girlfriend shrugged before a soft smile started playing on her lips. She leaned over the table and grabbed the paint samples, showing him the ones he had been staring at.

“Which room were you thinking about?” Ziva asked, raising an eyebrow when he blushed slightly.

“The office?”

Now both her eyebrows shot up.

“You want an office?” the Israeli echoed, prompting Tim to blush again.

“Well, you have one now.” he pointed out.

“I have a guest bedroom.” Ziva protested.

“With reports and maps and books on the bed and the desk littered with more of the same.” Tim reminded her. Ziva narrowed her eyes at him as she opened her mouth before she clamped it shut.

“Look, it’s not like I’m not aware of the way rents have sky-rocketed and that I just want a room for the sake of it. But you know how it is sometimes when you are over and either one of us wants to watch TV and the other wants to read or listen to music. And I don’t think you want to finish reports at the dining table-”

“Okay, okay.” Ziva held up her hands in surrender, accepting that he had indeed a point. The last time she had shared an apartment with anyone, really lived with someone without having her own place as some sort of backup had been so long ago that she forgot about work files lying everywhere.

“Perhaps we should postpone the color scheme discussion until we find a place, though?” she suggested.

“I have a friend, he’s a real estate agent. He might be able to find something in our price range.”

Ziva nodded, reaching over the table and taking his hand. “Call him. We aren’t on call next weekend, might as well do something useful then.”

McGee’s face broke into a huge smile and his heart started beating faster when he saw Ziva return it with genuine happiness and excitement lighting up her eyes.

“For the record, though? No green.” she added as she placed the paint samples back on the table.

“No green.” Tim nodded, leaning over the table to steal a quick kiss.


	3. filler up to 10x03

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ziva and Tim have a look at an apartment.

Tim shifted on his feet.

“Could we have a moment?” he asked and his friend nodded.

“Sure. Look around, take your time. I’ll be in the hallway.” the real estate agent said, nodding in Ziva’s direction before he disappeared to give them some privacy.

McGee put his hands into the pockets of his pants, his right one closing around the small velvet box. He swallowed thickly, searching Ziva’s face.

The weekend they hadn’t been on call they had spent at Midge’s funeral. At least on Saturday, Sunday Ziva had been in no mood to do much of anything. Tim had underestimated the friendship between the two women. Clearly, Ziva had been worried when the other NCIS employee disappeared after the bombing and even tried to keep up a brave face once they found the other woman’s body. He had never seen her grief, for anyone, so seeing her break down over dinner preparations all of a sudden had shocked him and he hadn’t really known what to do, what to say to make it better.

Now she seemed to slowly be getting over the loss, though there was a lingering… something that he couldn’t quite put his finger on. But spending their days looking through different listings provided a great deal of distraction, and this was the third apartment they were actually looking at in person, the other options already sorted out by their number of rooms, actual space and, of course, amount of monthly rent.

“What do you think?” he asked Ziva carefully. His girlfriend opened her mouth before sighing. She crossed her arms and took a few steps inside the largest room of the apartment, clearly designated as the living room.

“I am not sure.” she answered, stopping in the doorway to the kitchen and leaning against the doorjamb. “It’s…”

“Ugly?” Tim suggested. “Too small? Primitive?” he offered, words that had been said in the first and second apartments. He had to admit it, after living in his place for so long, he had forgotten how difficult it could be to find something to suit your needs and your wallet, and now it wasn't just him who would have to live in the place and compromise, it was Ziva, too.

Ziva shook her head, a soft smile playing on her lips. “Well, it’s not exactly what one would call modern.” she pointed out with a look at the rather antiquated kitchen appliances. “But I think it’s charming in it’s own way?” she suggested, pushing herself upright again. “How much work would it need?” she inquired and Tim tilted his head slightly.

“Well, we need a new kitchen.” he pointed out the obvious. “Bathroom could do with a new shower. Possibly a new floor?”

“Definitely a new floor.” Ziva nodded, shuddering at the thought of the run-down carpet currently in covering the apartment. “Since we both prefer hardwood flooring anyway we could ask Gibbs if he could help.” she suggested.

“So, you wanna ask Gibbs to help with this place?” Tim inquired, walking over to her. “Or do you want to keep looking for a different one?”

Ziva took a slow breath, looking up into his eyes. “Well, it’s a little closer to work.” she pointed out, reaching up to wrap her arms around his neck. “There’s takeout places down the street, and we’d be closer to the mall, too. Plus, I think Jethro might appreciate the park not even two blocks from here.”

As she spoke, a grin formed on her face that broke into a full smile when she saw Tim try to fight his amusement.

“What do you think?” she inquired, searching his face.

“It may sound cheesy, but I think that this place… it’s us. Needs work, a lot of it, but in end? I think it’ööefinitely worth it.” he said, reaching into his pocket again and pulling out the box. He opened it, holding it between them. “Work on it with me?” he asked, surprised by Ziva’s shocked expression. She stared at the ring, her mouth moving silently before she nodded, tears forming in her eyes,

“Yes.” she breathed, her hold on him tightening as she looked up at his face again. “A hundred times yes.” she muttered, pulling him down for a kiss that Tim eagerly returned. When they broke apart, he carefully slipped the ring on her finger, chuckling when he watched Ziva admire the sight briefly. It was such a universal behavior, so perfectly normal that it just hit him.

“It’s lovely.” she smiled, hugging him and brushing her lips over Tim’s again. “Thank you.”

“You really like it?” he inquired, suddenly self-conscious of how understated the ring was. He had gone for a classic golden band and a small oval cut diamond. His grandmother had offered him her own engagement ring, but when he saw it, it hadn’t seemed like something Ziva would wear. She never really wore jewelry, except for her Star of David and barely noticeable earrings. When she dressed up, she never wore anything flashy.

“Yes.” Ziva nodded enthusiastically. “Yes, it’s beautiful.”

Tim felt a huge weight being lifted of his shoulders and he wrapped his arms around her, hugging her tightly. When Ziva made a sound of protest, he silenced her briefly with a kiss before he let go off her.

“How about we let George know about the apartment?” he suggested, unable to wipe the goofy grin off his face when Ziva nodded, entwining their fingers.


	4. 10x03 tag

Ziva shook her head quickly.

“Certainly not.” she exclaimed, pointing at the screen of Tim's monitor. “Why on earth would anyone ever even want that?” she asked, furrowing her brows.

“Shopping for furniture?” Tony asked as he set down his backpack at his desk and wandered over to them. “Disagreement over the drapery?” he added when he caught Ziva’s annoyed look. It looked like he had actually walked in on an argument between the two lovebird. Which could only end with McGee getting his ass handed to him by his girlfriend, so Tony was rather looking forward to see this one unfold. Too bad he didn't actually have some popcorn...

“Why don’t you show him?” Ziva suggested, crossing her arms as Tim rolled his eyes and pulled up the website on the big plasma screen.

“What’s that?” Tony asked, frowning lightly and ignoring Ziva’s short bark of laughter. The thing on the screen looked bit like an cross between a cell phone and a camera, he supposed.

“It’s a life recorder.” Tim explained. “You wear it around your neck and it takes pictures every few seconds, uploading them to the Cloud.”

The Senior Field Agent crossed his arms, tilting his head. “Why would anyone want that?” He had heard of the concept before, though as he remembered it, the people wearing these devices had actually been cats and their owners had wanted to track their movements and find out what their critters were up to when they were roaming around on their own.

“Tony, your entire life, everything would be recorded, and searchable.” McGee explained, his green eyes sparkling with enthusiasm as Tony’s frown deepened.

“That’s creepy.” he muttered and Ziva nodded.

“Thank you!” she exclaimed. “See, I’m not the only one who thinks that.” she argued with her fiancé.

“Ah, so that’s what this is about.” Tony realized, his eyes widening with glee. “McGadget wants to snaps pictures of you.”

Ziva took a step around Tim’s desk to hit the other man on the shoulder.

“I like my privacy.” she hissed, flashing a look at Tim, who inclined his head sheepishly.

“These things are currently in beta testing, they’re looking for people to try them out-” he turned to Tony.

“And you volunteered.” the older man caught on, his eyes going back and forth between the couple. “And from the looks of it, Timmy was a naughty boy and didn’t ask permission.” he grinned, though his smile quickly froze when Ziva glared at him.

“I did not say you need permission to volunteer for things,” she repeated her earlier statement, “but when it affects me, too, I would like to be included in the decision making process.” she turned to Tim again. “And you are not going to wear this at home!” she added forcefully, pointing at the screen.

Tony furrowed his brows. “Which we haven’t seen yet, by the way.” he reminded her before focusing on Tim. “And doesn’t that kinda, interfere with our jobs? I mean, if you wore that things to work while collecting evidence, or taking pictures of a corpse, I doubt anyone would be too happy about seeing these pictures on the Internet.”

Ziva’s face practically lit up with the discovery of even more problems this thing could cause.

“It would allow you to look back on every moment in your life.” Tim threw in. His fiancé reached up to pinch the bridge of her nose.

“Perhaps some things are not meant to be remembered. Or shared with hundreds of strangers over the Internet, hm?” she muttered, squeezing his shoulder before she leaned back against the small desk at the back of his cubicle.

“Speaking of sharing,” Tony started, tilting his head at the woman. “What’s with the new hair?” he asked her, motioning to his neck. Ziva drew a slow breath.

“Well, we’re currently living out of boxes, some things are at my place, others at the new one and then there’s Tim’s place too, and somehow, my flat iron got lost in the chaos.” she explained. “And a certain dog was misbehaving again.” she shot with a mild glare at Tim’s head.

“He’s being chewing things up again. It’s the stress.” he explained for the hundredth time.

“That does not change that I did not have a blow dryer this morning.” Ziva pointed out, but any further argument was cut off by the arrival of their boss.

* * *

A few hours later, Ziva caught Tim in the break room. She stole a bite from his lunch, her eyebrows going up when he gave an indignant “Hey!” at the action.

“What’s going on with you?” she asked, sitting down opposite of him. Her fiancé shrugged, sticking his fork into the Chinese he had been eating. It seemed like he was sad for some reason, and definitely easily irritated today.

“Nothing.” he said, shaking his head. “Nothing, just…”

“Is it working for Ducky?” Ziva asked carefully, tilting her head at him. McGee shook his head. “Or are you upset with me because I was so against that life recorder thing?” she pressed. She knew that waiting until they were alone would have been a better decision now, but at the time, she hadn't really thought about the possibility of Tony walking in, and by the time it happened, she had been so worked up about the thing that she had actually been looking for a way to vent, she supposed. Nothing else could explain why she had allowed herself to drag Tony into their disagreement.

“No, it’s not that.” Tim shook his head with a sigh.

“Then tell me!” Ziva exclaimed loudly. “Before I start interrogating you.” she threatened as she narrowed her eyes at him.

“You’re not wearing it.” Tim muttered, looking at her hand pointedly when she frowned. “The ring.” he helped her along. Ziva’s mouth formed an O and she leaned back in her chair.

“We never told anyone that we got engaged.” she said, her voice soft as she reached into the pocket of her pants, pulling out the ring. “And I did not want them to find out this way, by noticing the ring.” she admitted, drawing a slow breath.

McGee frowned at her.

“So what, you suddenly don’t want them to know that we’re getting married?”

“I want them to know!” Ziva protested with a hiss. “But I want, I want to make an announcement. Not do in such a “oh, by the way, Tim and I got engaged and we’re moving in together” way.” she said, reaching up to pinch the bridge of her nose. “Gibbs found out about us and so did Tony, and when I told Abby I did it because it was getting obvious and not saying anything would have been lying. We don’t exactly have the best track record with informing them of what’s going on in our lives, and I don’t want any of them to think that we’re keeping things from them, again.”

Tim let out a breath and nodded slowly.

“Okay.” he muttered. “Perhaps it was just the stress of everything getting to me, too. So, when do we tell them?” he asked her, watching as Ziva glared at the ring briefly before she put it back in her pocket before she leaned forward to grasp his hands in hers.

“We could go for drinks once we solve this case.” she suggested, watching his face. Tim mulled the idea over in his head briefly before he nodded.

“Though it might be difficult getting Ducky and Palmer to join us.” he pointed out, causing Ziva to sigh.

“I know, but we can tell them separately, in case they cannot make it.”

“Sounds like a plan.” McGee nodded as they stood and went back to their desks, Tim pausing briefly and stealing a quick kiss, though he wasn’t quick enough to escape the notice of their boss.

Just when he thought that he had escaped the headslap, he felt the impact and flinched.

“Not at work.” Gibbs reminded him with a glare, making Tim nod mutely before he went back to his work.

* * *

“We are finally whole again.” Ziva remarked at the reinstatement of Ducky, smiling to herself. Tim didn’t miss the slightly bewildered look Gibbs gave the Israeli and bit his tongue to keep the grin off his face.

“Speaking of whole,” he started, sharing a look with Ziva, “Ziva and I would like to invite everyone for drinks tonight.”

Tony perked up at his desk.

“Invite as in ‘you’re going to pay for everything’?” he asked, causing Ziva to roll her eyes.

“You can have one drink on us, anything more than that and you’re paying for it yourself.” she warned him with a sharp look and a pointed finger. She didn’t miss the mouthed curse but chose to ignore it.

“You sell a new book, McWriter?” Tony asked curiously.

“No.” Tim shook his head with a mild glare in the other man’s direction.

“Then why would you invite all of us?” the Senior Field Agent inquired, furrowing his brows.

“Might have something to do with this.” Gibbs announced, holding out his hand to Ziva, who blushed furiously when she saw her engagement ring sitting in the other man’s palm.

“Where did you-” she started, but Gibbs interrupted her.

“Fell out of your pocket when you gave me the car keys.” he said, raising an eyebrow at her as she took the ring carefully. “Wanna tell me something?” he asked, his voice low. Ziva shared a quick look with McGee before she swallowed and slipped the ring on her finger again.

“You’ll find out tonight when we go for drinks.” she told him resolutely, returning to her own desk to start writing up her report. She could feel Tony gawking at her and saw him point at Tim and then her, his mouth moving until he let out a squeak.

“You guys got engaged?!” he asked loudly, looking at Gibbs for help. The older man merely shrugged.

“Heard ‘er, DiNozzo. We’re gonna find out tonight.” he said, his lips tugging upwards in a grin.


	5. filler up to 10x04

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The team goes out for drinks.

Tony took another sip of his beer, before setting the glass down hard. The team, including Ducky, Jimmy and Breena, had gathered at their favorite bar, finding themselves a table and ordering drinks.

“Okay, I gotta know.” he proclaimed, pointing at Tim. “How did you propose?” he asked, causing the others to focus on Tim, too. Who could feel himself blushing. “Come on, how did you get Ziva David to say yes to marrying… well, you.”

Ziva merely gave Gibbs a look and the team leader reached up, delivering the head slap wordlessly.

“Thank you, boss.” DiNozzo muttered after flinching.

“Actually, I didn’t.” Tim admitted, sharing a look with Ziva. She smiled at him and squeezed his hand gently when he covered it with his. “She asked me.”

“No way!” Jimmy exclaimed, his eyes wide and mouth open.

“Do you not believe him, Jimmy?” Ziva asked pointedly, raising an eyebrow. “Because he’s telling the truth; I was actually the one who proposed.”

“Talk about unconventional.” Tony muttered into his beer. Feeling Ziva, McGee and even Abby glare at him, he quickly added, “Which is what you two are. An unconventional couple, so why have the proposal be any different?”

Ziva narrowed her eyes at him, but Abby prevented her from making a comment.

“I think it’s really sweet.” the Forensic Scientist proclaimed.

“I wish I had had the courage to ask Jimmy.” Breena said with a sigh. “We might have gotten married earlier then.” she added, drawing laughs from the others.

“Well, I still wanna know how the proposal went. Did you take him to go on a run and instead of a shower afterwards he got a ring?” Tony persisted.

“Tony…” Tim sighed, shaking his head.

“Uh, no. Actually, it was, uh… it happened at work.” Ziva murmured into her beer. When she felt the eyes of everyone on her, she gave a soft sigh, setting her glass down. “The business with Dearing made me realize that, life is short and precious. And I started thinking of missed opportunities, and knew I didn’t want this to be one, so I… may have blurted it out in the break room.”

“Definitely unconventional.” Tony tilted his head.

“Women have been conventionally allowed to propose to men on February, 29.” Ducky chimed in. "In Ireland it is said that the tradition goes back to a deal struck between Saint Bridget and Saint Patrick."

“Oh, I heard about that.” Abby perked up, nodding enthusiastically. “One of my friends did it that way. Then again, she married a woman, so…”

“If the intended groom turned down the proposal, he had to compensate her by buying her a gift. In some countries, he was forced to buy the woman new gloves.”

Jimmy frowned in confusion.

“Why would he buy her a pair of gloves? I mean, a dress? Sure. Shoes? Of course. But gloves?”

“For her to be able to hide the shame of a bare ring finger, Mister Palmer.” Ducky spelled it out for the young man, whose expression of sudden understanding made the rest of the team laugh again.

“Well, I am happy that I did not get new gloves.” Ziva chuckled, exchanging a look with her fiancé. Tim grinned at her, reaching out for her hand and squeezing it gently.

“Have you done any planning for the wedding yet?” Abby asked them, causing them to shake their heads.

“No, not yet.” Tim admitted, furrowing his brows a little. “I mean, it’s still kinda fresh, and maybe we’ve also been putting it off subconsciously.”

“Ooof, yeah.” DiNozzo nodded, cringing when he remembered all the planning that had gone into his almost-wedding and then remembering the last year when Palmer had more or less driven them crazy with everything from invitations to flower arrangements and cake samples to bands…

“If it drives you crazy, you can just, elope.” Abby shrugged before she narrowed her eyes at them. “On second thought, don’t even think of considering that.” she threatened, wagging her finger at Tim, who ducked his head slightly and raised his hands in defeat.

“We won’t.” he promised her while Ziva gave an affirmative nod.

“Good. Because I would hate to make Ziva a widow.” the Forensic Scientist said, taking a sip of her drink before she turned her bright eyes to Gibbs. “You never told us about any of your weddings, Gibbs.” she batted her eyes at him, but the team leader just gave a chuckle and shook his head.

“Not gonna happen, Abbs.” he informed her.

“Oh, please, Gibbs!” the woman whined, nodding in the direction of the couple. “You gotta help them out a little, what with your experience…” she trailed off uncertainly when the man glared at her.

“Well, we could help with the planning of Tim’s stag party.” Ducky cut in, straightening up a little. “Or rather, make sure we avoid another end like your last one.” he remarked with a look at his old friend. Gibbs shook his head, taking a sip of his beer.

“Why, what happened?” Tony wanted to know, his eyes widening in glee. “Bachelor gone wild?”

“You know, I’d be rather interested to know how your last night as a Bachelor looked like, Tony.” Tim cut in, smirking when the other man shot him a reproachful look.

“Well, you guys know all about my Bachelor’s party.” Jimmy chimed in, steering the conversation to that night. When Ziva laughed in memory of Jimmy acting drunk even though all they had been drinking had been juice, she caught Gibbs’ eye. The older man tilted his head at her before he gave a lopsided smile and raised his bottle in her direction, Ziva returning the gesture with a smile on her lips.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I apologize for having taken so long with this. Unfortunately, I have to warn you that this might be more of the rule now, seeing as my semester has started up again. Also, I prefer to have a "buffer" of at least one episode, since I have stopped reading through spoilers and learned last season how one episode can throw major curve balls and ruin already established "fic!canon".


	6. 10x04 tag

Ziva got up from the desk and grabbed her belongings, casting a look at Tim before she left after Borin.

She wasn’t really angry with them for not including her in their “boy’s night”, and Tim had even told her that they hadn’t gone out but stayed in and played a few games. Still, punishing Tony for completely ignoring her when he’d asked if McGee was busy had been necessary.

“Thank you, for telling me about DiNozzo.” Borin said as she hit the button on the elevator.

“I thought I better, given how… persistent he can get.” Ziva allowed, glancing at the other woman. The CGIS agent hadn’t seemed angry with her for daring Tony to score a date with her but seemed rather amused by it. Still, Ziva felt a bit guilty about dragging the other woman into this.

“I was starting to wonder what had gotten into him. Contemplated telling Gibbs to lay off the headslaps for a while.” the redhead quipped, causing Ziva to chuckle. When they stepped off the elevator, Borin paused.

“I heard congratulations are in order?”

Ziva looked at her quizzically and the other woman explained.

“Abby told me you and McGee got engaged.”

“Oh.” the Israeli breathed. She kept forgetting about that, even though she was now wearing the ring at work, too. No, it was mostly because nothing between her and Tim had changed. Aside from moving into an apartment together, that was. But their relationship was still the same, it still felt the same. Maybe a bit more secure, but then again she hadn’t really needed that. She knew she loved him and was pretty sure that Tim felt the same way.

“Oh, good, we caught up with you.” Tim breathed as he and Tony burst through the door leading to the staircase. The two women chuckled at the sight of the guys.

“Yes, you did.” Borin said, watching in amusement as DiNozzo rested his hands on his knees and drew deep breaths.

“Though I am not sure why?” Ziva said, raising an eyebrow at her fiancé. Tim shrugged lightly.

“We thought we might join you two. Unless you want to be alone, in which case this hasn’t happened.”

Borin shook her head and fished the keys to her car out of the pocket of her pants.

“You can try to keep up with us again and find out where we’re going.” she challenged, leaving to get to her car. Ziva shrugged and leaned in for a quick kiss, smiling at Tim before she left to find her own, leaving the two men to decide what they were going to do.

* * *

“Maybe that wasn’t such a bad idea after all.” Tim said, tilting his head at Borin and Tony in deep conversation. Ziva followed his gaze, surprise showing on her face.

“Maybe not.” she allowed, taking a sip of her drink. “Speaking of bad ideas,” she started, furrowing her brows. “Your grandmother emailed me.”

“Penny?” Tim asked, trepidation seeping into his voice. Ziva nodded, a soft smile playing on her lips. “What did she want?”

“She was asking about a bridal shower.” his fiancée replied, frowning. “Though she called it Hens Night. And apparently it involves an all-male strip club. Though I understood that to be a suggestion rather than a fact.”

Tim let out a groan and hid his face in his hands briefly as she started laughing.

“I’ll talk to her.” he offered, but Ziva shook her head.

“Don’t worry, it’s fine.” she smiled. “I actually like the idea.”

“Of going to a strip club with my grandmother?”

Ziva let out a laugh at his mortified face that made Tony and Borin look over from their end of the bar.

“I have a feeling that it’s also a point on Abby’s list of possibilities.” she said and Tim sighed.

“Yeah, probably.” he allowed, frowning into his beer. Ziva reached out and ran her hand through the hair at the nape of his neck.

“Don’t worry, they have nothing on you.” she assured him, watching as McGee rolled his eyes.

“Who’s got nothing on loverboy?” Tony asked. Ziva narrowed her eyes at him.

“You, for starters.” Tim replied, a warning in his voice and DiNozzo quickly put up his hands in a surrendering gesture.

“You’re leaving?” Ziva asked, watching Borin pay for her drinks.

“I got an early performance review tomorrow.” the CGIS agent replied, hugging Ziva goodbye and nodding at Tim before she left.

“You know what, I’m tired.” Tony said, getting out his wallet and putting a few bills on the table. “I’ll see you guys tomorrow.” he bid them goodnight and Ziva almost laughed at his attempt to stop himself from racing out of the bar.

When she turned around again, Tim was staring at the door, his mouth slightly agape.

“You know what? I don’t even want to know.” he proclaimed, turning back to his drink. Ziva watched him briefly before she emptied her glass.

“What do you think, perhaps we could take a leaf out of their book?” she suggested, cocking an eyebrow. Tim blinked at her in confusion before his face lit up and he quickly gestured for the bartender so he could pay and they’d be able to leave.


	7. 10x05 tag

Loud clatter and a crash made Tim jump from his chair and race to the living room, where he found his girlfriend sitting on the floor, rubbing her wrist and cursing under her breath.

“You okay?” he asked her as he helped her up, surveying the chaos of drapery and curtain poles lying on the floor.

“Yeah.” Ziva nodded, grimacing. “Or not.” she allowed, gently moving her hand in every direction.

“What happened?” Tim inquired, inspecting her wrist and feeling the bones. Ziva hissed and withdrew her hand, reaching up to brush her curls from her face with the other.

“Your dog decided he wanted to cuddle just when I stepped on the chair.” she replied, stalking off in the direction of the kitchen to find herself an ice pack. Tim sighed, starting to pick up the mess that had been left behind. When he was folding up the drapes, Jethro came slinking back into the room from the hallway, his tail between his legs. The NCIS agent couldn’t help the chuckle that escaped him, knowing that the window of opportunity to scold the dog had already disappeared.

“You could have just come and found me, you know.” he told the German Shepherd, rubbing his fur.

“Of course, reward him for it.” Ziva rolled her eyes, pointedly ignoring the dog when she returned. Jethro looked at her, a soft whine escaping him. It tugged at Tim’s heartstrings, but he knew that Ziva would cool off soon enough.

“Need a doctor?”

His fiancée shook her head.

“No, I don’t think it’s broken.” she said, flopping down on the couch. Tim sat down next to her and wrapped his arm around her shoulder, pressing a soft kiss to her temple.

“Can I ask you something?” Tim wondered, toying with a strand of her hair. For some reason, even though her flattening iron had turned up again, Ziva was suddenly wearing her hair with its natural curls. He kind of liked it, it gave her a playful look. That, and there was something funny in tugging on a strand to watch it bounce back. Ziva swatted his hand away but leaned into him, resting her head on his shoulder.

“Sure.” she allowed, reaching out to pet Jethro’s head when the dog came trotting over and rested his head in her lap, peering up at her miserably.

“You didn’t have much fun at college, did you?” he asked her and felt Ziva tense up. It wasn’t something she talked about, her past, and he had no idea of what her teenage years had been like. He couldn’t really imagine Ziva at college, really.

“Academic fun, yes.” she answered, drawing a slow breath. “It was at the same time when I started at Mossad. My father was paying for my education and he was not a fan of… distractions.” she added in a low voice, absentmindedly running her hand through Jethro’s fur. “I did go out with friends and to some parties, but I never really had a chance to just… let go, if that is what you are asking.”

“I’m sorry.” Tim muttered, but Ziva shook her head.

“Don’t be.” she asked him. “Just because I didn’t have the chance to act like I had not a care in the world doesn’t mean that you should feel guilty about having it.” she said, tilting her head to look at him. “Though I am a little surprised. I didn’t think you enjoyed school too much.”

“School? No. But MIT? Oh yes.” Tim said, grinning. “For the first time in my life, I wasn’t the lone geek any more. I had friends who were just the same and the athletes didn’t think of beating us up because they could.” he told her, furrowing his brows. “I guess that’s why I considered going into development and research for pretty much my entire college career. It felt like I had found my home.”

“What made you give it up for NCIS?” Ziva asked, genuinely curious. They hadn’t talked too much about how he had come to work at NCIS itself. She knew how he’d happened to join Gibbs’ team, and Tim knew her story as far as Mossad regulations allowed.

“My father.” he admitted. “I wanted him to be proud of me, but it seemed like that wasn’t going to happen as long as I was diddling around with computers. NCIS seemed like the middle ground. It was Navy-oriented without me actually joining the military, and I’d get to use my skills in a way that would benefit people.”

Ziva watched him before she took his hand and entwined their fingers. She knew what wanting to please your father felt like, what wanting to see him look at you with pride could cause people to do. She had been surprised to find that Tim knew about it almost as much as she did. Granted, his father hadn’t abandoned him in a terrorist camp halfway around the world, but they hadn’t spoken in years before last summer, something that made her furious when she saw how long it took Tim to write an email, because he was revising every word, wondering how he sounded and what his father might think about his news… They still hadn’t told Tim’s parents that they had gotten engaged. She didn’t want to push him to do it, wanted him to share because it was something he wanted them to know. It wasn’t that he was ashamed of her, but every time he had tried to share something with his father before, something he had been happy and enthusiastic about, the man had managed to ruin it, to spoil everything, and she could understand Tim trying to protect the happy bubble they had created for the time being.

“For what it’s worth, I am proud of you.” Ziva told him, pressing a kiss to his hand.

Tim smiled at her, leaning in for a gentle kiss.

“I know.” he murmured against her lips, sighing. “So I guess our kids won’t get the wild frat parties, huh?” he joked. Ziva blinked at him in surprise and his eyes widened slightly.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t-”

“It’s okay.” she quickly shook her head. “You just, caught me by surprise.” the Israeli allowed, finding that her shock was actually just that: surprise at him mentioning children. She had never been able to picture herself with one, but now that Tim had said it, she suddenly found the idea less terrifying. The thought was still scary, her being a mother, but by far not as much as it had used to be. Perhaps it was because for the first time in her life, she had a stable relationship that she was looking to make even more permanent. She knew Tim loved her and that he wouldn't just up and leave one day, she wore the proof of his commitment on her finger and never had a reason to doubt him.

“And our potential children can decide for themselves if they want the parties.” she decided. “They should just be aware that if they overdo it, they might find themselves with a little less money in their bank account in case their grades suffer too badly.” she added, causing Tim to chuckle.


	8. 10x07 tag

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I tried, but really couldn't come up with a tag to the first part of _Shell Schock_ , so there isn't one.

Tim crossed his arms, watching as Ziva went through her wardrobe and tried to decide on an outfit for Thanksgiving.

“You know, I spoke to Tony today.” he slowly began, wondering how on earth he had managed to miss what his colleague had pointed out to him earlier. Or rather, made him realize. It wasn’t like Tony had an idea what was really going on in Ziva’s head at this time of year, and Tim was shocked to find that she was still so good at hiding things from him he hadn’t taken much notice of it, either.

“Huh?” his fiancée muttered, furrowing her brows at her reflection when she held up a dress to check how it looked.

“He was going on about how weird it is that we kinda switched roles in every department, seeing as you were trying to take me out on a date.”

At that, Ziva froze before slowly putting down her arm holding the dress, her eyes finding his in the mirror.

“You could’ve told me.” Tim said, walking over to her. Ziva took a slow breath, turning around and throwing the dress onto the bed before she crossed her arms.

“I didn’t know how.” she admitted, worrying her lip. “I don’t…. usually talk about her. And I know that Thanksgiving is hard for you, too, and I… guess I didn’t want to make it worse.”

Tim took her hands, entwining their fingers carefully before he rested his forehead against Ziva’s.

“It wouldn’t have made it worse. You sharing what’s going on inside your head doesn’t pull me down, Ziva.”

She drew a shuddering breath and nodded silently, squeezing his hands hard before Tim leaned back.

“The bad news is, I tried to play the ‘I’m a writer’ card, but…”

“It didn’t work.”

Tim shook his head with a sigh.

“No. Sold out is sold out, apparently.” he confirmed, watching as tears welled up in her eyes before Ziva swallowed thickly and gave a curt nod.

“Then I will just have to, remember her differently, this year.” she said, pulling away from him to put the clothes back in the wardrobe. Tim turned around and wrapped his arms around her middle, carefully pulling her back against him. She didn’t protest but covered his hands with hers, leaning against his chest.

“I love you.” he whispered softly into her ear. Ziva reached up, resting her hand on his cheek.

“I love you, too.” she responded, turning her head to catch his lips in a soft kiss before she stole from his embrace, but not before attempting a soft smile that turned out to be more of a grimace.

* * *

“Sometimes I wonder how you managed to wear these almost daily.” Ziva shook her head, fixing his tie and giving it a soft pull.

“I never took the knots out of them.” Tim told her with a shrug, kissing her gently before he watched her walk over to her desk to get her purse and coat. “Listen, I called Gibbs. Told him you’d be late.” he started. Ziva turned around, raising an eyebrow.

“We’re not going to be late. At least not if I drive.” she remarked, turning off her computer.

“I said _you_ , not _we_. Unless you want me to stay, but-” Tim trailed off with a shake of his head. He picked up the CD and inserted it into his computer. “You know I played around with the sound in here? Actually installed a pretty neat system.”

“You never mentioned that.” Ziva tilted her head at him and he could see she was resisting the urge to check her watch and tell him to get a move on.

“Yeah. One night I was playing games and Tony walked in… I was wearing a cape. It was during that summer…” he muttered, catching her eye and knowing Ziva understood what summer he meant. “Anyways, I know it’s not the opera, but,” he continued, turning on the CD and slowly raising the volume, “perhaps, if you close your eyes, you can pretend like it is. Maybe even that Tali’s with you.” he offered, holding out the clicker to her. Ziva reached out, taking it with a shaking hand, her touch lingering as her eyes filled with moisture.

“Thank you.” she husked, closing her eyes briefly. Tim watched her, a soft smile stealing across his face before he went back to his desk and grabbed his jacket to give her some time alone. When he went to kiss her cheek in parting, Ziva’s hand shot out and she grabbed his, holding on tightly.

“Stay.”

His eyebrows shot up in surprise and he shifted on his feet.

“I don’t have to. It’s okay if you want to be alone, Ziva, really-”

“I don’t.” his fiancée shook her head. “I’m tired of being alone and the only one to remember her. I… want to share this. With you.” she breathed and Tim swallowed thickly before he nodded. He got his chair, pulling it up next to hers in the squad room, both of them sitting down. Ziva turned up the volume even more before she rested her head on his shoulder. Her hand found his again and she squeezed his hard, drawing a shuddering breath.

“For her fifteenth birthday, Ari took us to the opera.” Ziva softly said after a while. “She was so excited about it; she wouldn’t shut up for days. Our father let her buy a new dress and we got our hair done…” she trailed off, a soft smile stealing across her face. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen her as happy as in the moment when the curtain lifted and the first song started to play.”

Tim wrapped his arm around her shoulders and held her while they sat there, listening to _“O Mio Babbino Caro”_.

“Happy birthday, Tali.” he whispered softly after a while.

“ _Ani ohevet otach, akhot ktana_.” Ziva breathed, squeezing his hand again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What Ziva says is (hopefully) Hebrew for "I love you, little sister". I tried various online dictionaries, if it's wrong feel free to correct me.


	9. 10x08 tag

Tim shook his head in amusement when he heard Ziva’s laughter drift from the living room, Shmeil’s voice chiming in. The NCIS agent grabbed the three deserts and went back to his fiancée and her friend, sitting down at the dinner table.

It was lovely, seeing Ziva like this. At first, he had been a bit worried about her friend visiting. She was so amazed by the man that he had gotten slightly jealous when she couldn’t shut up about all the plans she had for him during his brief visit to DC, but then she’d shown him a picture from the last time they had met and all those feelings had pretty much vaporized.

“This tastes great.” the old man declared, spooning up the chocolate mousse happily.

“Ziva made it from scratch.” Tim announced, ignoring the soft glare she shot him for that comment. Their main course had actually been take-out, though they had put it on plates. But with Shmeil being Jewish and trying to keep kosher as much as possible and their kitchen not being made for kosher cooking, the delivery service had been the next best choice, aside from a restaurant, that was.

“Ah, I almost forgot, I have something for you, Zivale.” Shmeil said, getting up from his chair and wandering down the hallway to his coat while Tim watched his fiancée blush a little at the term of endearment. He hadn’t been aware of Ziva speaking Yiddish, though he probably should have guessed that she did. But she’d never displayed a knowledge of the language before, so it had come as a surprise when Shmeil’s sentences were laced with words from it and as the evening progressed, Ziva had started to use a lot more Yiddish terms, too.

“There you go.” Pinkhas muttered when he came back, placing a wrapped present next to her. Ziva frowned at him briefly.

“You should not have-”

“I saw it and knew how much you would love it. I do not have the time to read as much any more, there’s no use in having it sit on my bookshelf and gather dust.”

With a sigh, Ziva shook her head and picked up the present, carefully opening the wrapping. Tim saw her eyes widen when she looked at the book and her jaw dropped.

“Shmeil…” Ziva breathed, pulling the paper away to reveal an old book with Hebrew letters on it. Ziva carefully opened it, browsing a few pages, her eyes widening further before she swallowed. Closing the book, she held it out to her friend. “I cannot accept this.”

“Please, I insist.”

“Shmeil, this must have cost a fortune-”

“The keeper of the bookshop liked me. I don’t think he knew what a treasure he had on his shelf, really. Truth be told, I feel like I robbed the poor man.” Shmeil said, chuckling a little when he reached for his wine and took a sip.

“What is it?” Tim asked after having seen the exchange between the two friends.

“It’s,” Ziva started, her voice husky and she had to clear her throat, “it’s Faulkner’s ‘Absalom, Absalom!’ in Hebrew. It’s a first edition.”

Tim’s eyes widened and he leveled a questioning look at Shmeil, who just shrugged.

“I know how much you love him-”

“That is not the point.” Ziva shook her head, reaching up to rub a hand over her forehead.

“Yes, it is.” her old friend protested, reaching out to touch her hand. “I knew it would make you happy. I haven’t seen you as happy in a long time.” he softly said, making the woman swallow. Ziva shook her head, slowly setting the book down before she leaned over and hugged him, whispering something to him. Shmeil patted her back, a happy smile on his lips when Ziva leaned back.

“Now, how about you two tell me how you met?” he suggested, prompting a teary-eyed laugh from Ziva. She reached up and wiped the tears from the corners of her eyes and Tim decided to answer the question.

“At work.” he offered, causing the man to give him an amused look. “Uh…”

“When I came to work in the US,” Ziva started, choosing deliberately to not mention the circumstances of that, or of their very first meeting when she had still been her brother’s control officer, “Gibbs and Tony decided to have some fun with a little hazing. Tim was the one who was always helpful, right from the start. He made me feel welcome.” she said, her eyes finding his and a soft smile playing on her lips.

“And eight years later, you’re about to get married.” Pinkhas smiled, causing Ziva to laugh. “I never thought you would do that.”

“Let’s say I had someone convince me of the benefits of a marriage.” she allowed, taking a sip of her wine.

“You must be quite the romantic, then.” the Israeli told Tim. “I seem remember a young girl arguing against marriage as a concept quite vocally.”

“Yeah, she did that.” Tim nodded, not able to resist teasing Ziva a little. His fiancée shook her head in amusement, getting up and starting to clear the table, refusing the help the men offered her. When she left the room, some of the happiness seemed to go out of Shmeil, and the old man took a slow breath.

“She’s something special.” he said softly, making Tim nod in agreement.

“She really is.” the NCIS agent muttered, filling their glasses again and feeling Shmeil watch him intensely.

“She’s also been through a lot.” Pinkhas pointed out, searching Tim’s face. “This life, in safety… I don’t think she thought she’d ever have that.”

“Well, relative safety. I mean, we’re federal agents-”

“Yes, but you are not surrounded by your own enemies.” Shmeil protested, shaking his head. “Ziva and I had a conversation years ago, that got quite heated. At one point, she actually said that there was no point in thinking about all the abstract concepts for her, since she wouldn’t even live to see thirty.”

Tim exhaled slowly, closing his eyes at the reminder of what kind of life Ziva had lived before she had joined NCIS.

“She turned thirty last month.” his fiancée’s friend said, turning his glass slowly. “And I don’t think it has sunken in for her yet. The many possibilities she has now. That she might really get married, and have children…” he trailed off. “I don’t think I ever wanted anything as much as for her to know peace.”

“Well, with what’s currently happening in Gaza-”

“I don’t doubt that she is troubled over that.” Shmeil interrupted him, his lips curving upward. “But when I look at her now, look into her eyes, there’s a calm that’s never been there before.” he said, squeezing Tim’s hand. “And it makes me happy that I got to meet the man that let her now peace.”

Tim opened his mouth to reply, but then Ziva was back, pausing briefly when she saw the two men like they were. She shot them a questioning look, but Shmeil shook his head, suddenly exclaiming that it was getting late and he was rather tired.

“Of course.” Ziva nodded, checking her watch briefly and no doubt calculating what time it was currently in Israel. “Well, you know where the guest bedroom is. I’ve put fresh towels on your bed, if you need anything else, Tim and I will be up for a while.” she told him, hugging him gently and Tim’s eyes widening in surprise when, instead of the handshake from earlier he also received a hug.

“Ah, about breakfast-”

“Seven o’clock, a piece of toast and black tea with milk.” Ziva smiled. Shmeil inclined his head before shuffling down the hallway. Ziva took a slow breath, turning around to look at her fiancé.

“Do I want to know what you two were talking about just now?” she asked him, searching his face. Tim pursed his lips before he shook his head, wrapping his arms around her waist to pull her close.

“No.” he answered, brushing his lips over hers. “Just that he loves you very much, and I think he actually approves of me.”

Ziva let out a soft laugh at that. She reached up to gather his face in her hands and nodded.

“He does.” she revealed. “When I told him that the man I was seeing was you, he was rather excited about it. I think he’d been secretly hoping that one day, I’d come to the same conclusion as him.”

“And what conclusion would that be?”

Ziva’s lips tugged upward into soft smile. “That you have a gentle soul. That you don’t have it in you to hurt people, not knowingly. And that there is a calm in you that somehow manages to calm this storm inside of me.” she told him, her dark eyes shining. “And I know that I have said it before, but I love you, Tim. I love you so much.” she breathed, a tear spilling from her eyes.

“Hey, what’s, what’s this about?” Tim asked her gently, reaching up to wipe the tear away. Ziva shook her head, shrugging.

“I just feel, blessed.” she told him, sniffling slightly. “And perhaps I had too much wine.” she allowed, drawing a soft chuckle from her fiancé. Tim shook his head, resting his forehead against her briefly before he kissed her.

“I love you, too.” he said, drawing her into a tight hug and feeling Ziva hide her face in his shoulder, drawing a shuddering breath as she relaxed against him.


	10. 10x09 tag

Ziva furrowed her brows, throwing the bridal magazine onto the couch before she got up and went in search of her future husband. Tim had disappeared into the study a while ago, saying he wanted to try and write for a while.

When she found him, though, Ziva was greeted by the view of her fiancée trying to teach their dog a new trick. Or get him to reproduce an old one, but from Jethro's reaction to Tim's command one could believe that the German Shepherd had never before heard of "high five". With a sigh, Tim let his hand sink and frowned at the dog that was still staring expectantly at the hand holding the treat for him.

"Oh no, you don't get that." McGee shook his head and stood, putting the treat into his pocket. "You're fat and lazy enough already." he added, reaching out to pet the dog.

"One of these days, he'll talk back." Ziva said, leaning against the doorjamb. Tim looked over in surprise, a big smile stealing across his face. "I thought you wanted to write?"

"Yeah, well," Tim started, shrugging with a glance at his typewriter, "nothing seemed to come." he said, ruffling the dog's fur. "And then he came and decided to distract me-"

"And you decided to let him." Ziva added, her eyes dancing with amusement as she shook her head and went over to them, wrapping her arms around McGee's shoulders as she leaned down and pressed a kiss to his cheek. Tim grinned at her, abandoning the dog and pulling her into his lap, Ziva yelping in surprise, her hand grabbing for the desk to prevent the desk chair from rolling away.

"I got you." Tim muttered and she looked into his eyes.

"I know." Ziva returned, brushing her lips over his before she wiggled around in his lap, trying to get comfortable and pausing when the chair let out a sound of protest. "If this thing breaks, you help me up from the floor." she told her fiancé but made no move to get up.

"Okay." Tim accepted, kissing her again. Jethro let out a whine before he got up and left the room, making the couple laugh.

"I don't think he enjoyed the show." Tim grinned, Ziva chuckling.

"Thank God." she exclaimed, remembering the time when they had been making out on the couch during one of her first stays at Tim's apartment. She had sat up to find the remote and switch of the TV because the news program kept distracting her only to find Jethro sitting next to the couch table, watching them intently. That had creeped her out alright and completely killed the mood for the rest of the night.

She felt Tim tug on a strand of her hair and furrowed her brows at him.

"You seemed... distracted, earlier." he mumbled, placing a soft kiss under her jaw and Ziva let out a soft sigh.

"I was thinking." she admitted, watching him carefully. Ever since she had spoken to Diane, she had been returning to the conversation in her head again and again, her mind circling around something the other woman had said. Ziva bit her lip, trying to find the right words.

"Do you ever think that it's... unfair?" she asked, watching as Tim frowned. She got up from his lap and perched on the desk, crossing her legs. "I spoke to Diane, and something she said made me think... I know I proposed to you, and I do want to marry you, but now I wonder if maybe this is... too soon?"

Tim slowly shook his head, scooting closer to her in the chair.

"No. No, it's not too soon. Aside from the fact that we haven't even set a date yet, or actually begun preparing anything." he pointed out, furrowing his brows. "What did she say to make you think that?" he asked his fiancée, gently running his thumb over Ziva's knuckles. The Israeli let out a soft sigh.

"We were talking and she mentioned that she never really had a time in her life when she had just... let loose. And that there is no time for that especially when you're married, and I suddenly thought..." Ziva trailed off, taking a deep breath. "I know that, between you and me, I was the more... adventurous one, when it came to relationships and sex. Or just the sex. And talking to Diane, I guess it made me realize that I had a chance to just, do whatever I wanted, and I did, and I wouldn't trade that, because I had a lot of fun in those years. But now I can't help but wonder if, maybe, you regret... not having had such a phase?" she asked, searching Tim's face. The man frowned before he shook his head, at first slowly, then vehemently.

"No." he told her, leaning back slightly. "No, I don't regret that." he added, sighing. "Ziva, I didn't have that time because I didn't want it."

At that, the Israeli's face fell.

"Oh." Ziva breathed, pulling back her hand from his grasp.

"I didn't mean that I judge you or other for having fun. I don't, really. I get why it appealed to you, why it appeals to many young people, and I guess you could say that I, tried it?" Tim quickly clarified. "But I noticed pretty fast that it wasn't something I wanted or was cut out for. I mean, aside from there hardly being that many girls that would have been down for that sort of relationship with me-" he said, holding up his hand when Ziva opened her mouth in protest, "I just didn't like it. I wanted to spend time with the girls I was dating, I wanted to get to know them, beyond a one night stand I mean." he explained, watching her. "Maybe that's why my relationships all failed, because I was ready for something a lot more permanent than most women my age were willing to have." he mused, drawing a soft sigh from Ziva.

"I should have known that." she remarked, shaking her head. "I mean, Abby pretty much told me that was why you two never went anywhere; I should have seen the pattern."

Tim shrugged. "Yeah, well, don't be too hard on yourself. It's not the usual thing for a guy fresh out of college." he remarked, drawing a laugh from her.

"No, but it fits perfectly with your character." Ziva told him, leaning down to capture his lips in a soft kiss. She reached out and ran her hand through the hair at the back of his neck, a soft smile tugging at her lips. "So, am I to assume that you don't want the wild bachelor party, either? Because I think Tony might be already planning a rather furious send-off for you." she grinned, making Tim groan.

"Ah, don't worry." Ziva told him, hopping down from the desk and rubbing her nose against his. "I will remind him who your fiancée is, and that he will have to answer to me if this gets too out of hand."

“You should go easy on him.” Tim mumbled, kissing her gently. “He had to spent a night with Gibbs’ and Fornell’s ex-wife.”

“Hm.” Ziva murmured, letting her tongue dart out to tease him. “Well, it was his own fault, really. And that Fornell got into his face like he did was, too.” she pointed out, brushing her hair behind her ear. “Falling asleep with Diane on the couch was bad enough, but letting himself get caught…”

“So I should make sure that whatever I do, I never let you catch me?” Tim teased her and Ziva narrowed her eyes at him.

“I was trained by Mossad, Timothy. Trust that I will find out about it, eventually. And when I do, you will wish that you had told me, or not been so stupid in the first place.” she told him sternly, making Tim swallow thickly.

“Understood.” he nodded, wondering if he should assure her that he’d only been joking, but then Ziva’s face already broke out into a smile and she shook her head with a laugh before capturing his lips again. It seemed like the reassurance wasn’t needed.


	11. filler up to 10x10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Apologies for the delay, I meant to have this up on the 26th the latest but kept forgetting about it. Shame on me.

Tim watched as Ziva tilted her had at an ornament, furrowing her brows slightly before she reached out and grabbed it off the hanger, putting it into the small basket she was holding.

They’d gotten their tree yesterday. Not Ziva’s previous tiny artificial one (though they had put that one up in the study), but a real tree they had chosen themselves. Tim had found a sign that led to a small patch of woods where you could cut down your own tree when he was out with Jethro, and promptly collected Ziva from home so they could find their Christmas tree.

At first, she’d been rather reluctant about the thing. The energy he seemed to pour into this year’s Christmas preparations was just a little too much to make her suspicious. It wasn’t like this was their first Christmas together as a couple, Ziva had pointed out. And it wasn’t, but it was their first Christmas in their new apartment, their first Christmas as fiancés and he just wanted it to be special.

“Found something?” he asked her, wrapping his arms around her waist.

“I still don’t understand why we couldn’t just buy a box of ornaments.” Ziva said, but showing him her selection nonetheless.

“Because those are boring.” Tim remarked, carefully shifting through the glass ornaments. “They’re beautiful.” he said, kissing her cheek before he held out his hand. On his palm was a wooden ornament, shaped like a Menorah. Ziva reached out slowly, running her fingers over the wood.

“We still need tinsel. And lights.” her fiancé said after he put the ornament with hers and let go of her.

“White lights.” Ziva told him with a look that suggested he shouldn’t even try to argue with her. Still Tim furrowed his brows.

“But the ones on your tree are colored.”

“Exactly.” Ziva nodded. “Do you honestly want a light show in your living room?” she asked him and Tim tilted his head before giving in.

“Okay, fine.” he sighed dramatically, pausing in front of the tinsel. He had just opened his mouth to ask her opinion when Ziva said they should pick the lights first, since they’d have those for more than a year.

Another half an hour later, they were finally at the check-out counter and Tim’s eyebrows almost hit the ceiling when the cashier announced the total. To his surprise, Ziva didn’t even flinch, but took out her wallet and handed over her credit card, signing the bill after checking the sum again and wishing the woman a ‘Happy Hanukah’. Tim couldn’t help but chuckle at the woman’s surprised look as he followed Ziva to his car.

“I’ll give you the money back-”

“No.” Ziva shook her head as she put their purchases into the car, eyeing the boy of fragile ornaments and deciding she should probably hold onto those during the ride.

It wasn’t like money was much of an issue between them; they rarely talked about it and seemed to still end up splitting the costs for everything mostly equally. But this had been his idea, it was his faith that celebrated Christmas, and Tim felt weird knowing that she had paid for it for some reason.

“Hanukah’s just a small celebration, compared to Christmas at least.” Ziva pointed out as Tim furrowed his brows. Small, maybe, but that didn’t change that he’d gotten a small gift the last few nights from her. Nothing big or fancy like for Christmas, but still. Just small tokens that said they thought of each other.

“Yeah, but-”

“You bought the candles for the Menorah, I bought the ornaments for the tree, we are even.” she suddenly raised her voice at him and slammed her car door shut, leaving him to blink at her in surprise. When he got into the car, Ziva had apparently already cooled down because she reached out and covered his hand on the stick to give it a soft squeeze and throwing an apologetic smile at him, one that Tim returned.

* * *

Back at home, they decorated their tree mostly in silence. It was one of the moments when he was sure even Ziva was thankful that Jethro was a dog and not a cat, because he showed barely any interest in the thing, just sniffing at the lower branches once before he went back to his pillow to rest.

Still they left the lower branches empty, agreeing that having the tree look a little odd was still preferable to Jethro knocking down an ornament and cutting himself with the shards or something.

“Hey.” Tim murmured when he went to the kitchen and found Ziva washing her hands, smelling at them.

“I smell like a forest.” she declared with a soft smile playing on her lips. Tim went up behind her, snaking his arms around her waist and sniffing loudly at her neck.

“Didn’t know they have jasmine in the forest.” he teased her, drawing a soft laugh from her before she stole from his embrace.

“About earlier…” he started carefully, watching her face as Ziva grabbed the matchbox off the windowsill.

“I talked to Sarah.” she suddenly revealed, toying with the matchbox before she looked up at him. “I thought that perhaps she would like to spend Christmas with us, and… she told me, about you two not really having any Christmas traditions growing up.”

Tim put his hands in the pockets of his pants, shrugging. “Happens.” he remarked. He hadn’t told her about it last year. It wasn’t like he had no idea what Christmas was like, and at college, he had picked up so many different traditions from his friends that he had crafted his own, in a sense. And there were the, well, traditions they had as a team. Watching ‘It’s a Wonderful Life’ and drinking cider together, exchanging gifts…

“I know.” Ziva nodded, leaning back against the windowsill and watching him. “I guess I just didn’t expect it, not from others. And I get now why you’re doing this, why this is so important to you.”

Tim’s eyes flickered away and he swallowed thickly as he blinked a few times.

“So, how are we doing?” she asked him and his head snapped back to look at her in puzzlement. “With, building our own traditions?” Ziva clarified. A soft smile stole across his face and Tim walked over to her, resting his hands on her hips.

“Pretty good.” he declared as he rested his forehead against hers. “Though you still haven’t taught me this, whatever it is you recite.” he added, reaching out to tap  the matchbox. Ziva’s lips curved into a smile.

“I am more than aware of your internet search history.” she informed him and Tim felt his ears getting hot.

“Okay, so I know what you’re saying. I still don’t know _how_.” he pointed out. Ziva leaned back slightly and tilted her head before she brushed her lips over his.

“Maybe next year.” she told him before slipping away to light the Menorah sitting in their living room windowsill.


	12. 10x10 tag

“We, uh…” Ziva started, resting her hand on the box of cookies Tony’s father had just given her. “Look, Mr DiNozzo-” she began, walking around her desk.

“Please, don’t be so formal, Ziva.” the man told her, putting the present down on Tim’s desk.

“I think you may have the wrong idea, about me and your son.” Ziva started, waiting until Senior was looking at her. “Tony and I, we are friends. Nothing more, nothing less.”

“I know. Still, that doesn’t mean-”

“No, it means that there has never been anything going on between the two of us, nor will it ever.” she interrupted the man quickly. “I’m in a relationship with someone else, someone I love very much, and… We would both appreciate it, if you could stop hinting that Tony and I should just, get together.”

Senior furrowed his brows in surprise.

“Wait, does that mean you’re dating someone from the team? It’s not Gibbs, is it?”

Ziva let out a soft laugh and shook her head. “No, I’m not dating Gibbs.” she assured him before holding up her hand, her engagement ring sparkling in the light. “I’m engaged to Tim.” Ziva told him. She watched as Tony’s father stared at her with an open mouth before she swallowed, nodding slowly.

“I’m sorry, I had no idea… Junior didn’t tell me-”

“The last time you were here, Tony didn’t know about our relationship. The way he found out about it… it was not a good one. I’m not surprised he hasn’t told you.”

Senior bowed a little in her direction. “Well, congratulations, Ziva.” he said, and Ziva would have almost bought that he was happy for her. Maybe he was, but there was also disappointment in his eyes. Apparently, the man really had thought that her and Tony would make a good couple and that it was only a matter of time until something evolved between the two of them. Huh.

“I hope you’re not…” she trailed off, watching him carefully.

“Disappointed? No! No, of course not.” Senior quickly shook his head, making a throw-away motion with his hand. “Well, maybe a little. I was looking forward to such a charming daughter-in-law.” he told her, causing Ziva to shake her head in amusement.

“Well, it doesn’t really change anything between us.” she pointed out, leaning against Gibbs’ desk. “And it doesn’t change anything between you and Tony, either.”

At that, the old man gave a sigh. “Maybe change would be good.” he admitted softly, furrowing his brows. “I think I might be trying to make up for too much in too short a time, you know?”

Ziva shifted slightly, listening.

“I mean, Junior’s mother, she was the love of my life. After she died, Christmas was…” the man trailed off. Ziva swallowed thickly. She remembered Hanukah as it had been when her mother had still been alive, and then the first year after her death. The holiday had never been the same without her, and then she had lost Tali, too, and Ari…

“You can’t fix decades within three days.” she pointed out gently. “But you can try to get to know Tony again, spend time with him… that’s what Christmas is about, isn’t it?”

Her friend’s father gave her a soft smile before he hugged her and then disappeared again, Ziva’s eyes following him as she hoped he was not going to screw this up. When the elevator doors closed, she turned around and went to McGee’s desk, going through his address deck and looking for Penny’s number. She quickly went back to her own, sitting down in her chair and dialing.

“Penny? It’s Ziva. Listen, I need a favor.”

* * *

Ziva leaned into his side, wrapping one arm around his waist as she accepted a glass of eggnog from her fiancé.

“Merry Christmas.” Tim told her, pressing a soft kiss to her temple before they went to sit down in the comfortable chairs of MTAC to watch the movie. He was pretty sure that Gibbs only let him get away with it because it was Christmas and there was no one there besides the team to see it, and it wasn’t like it was drawing attention away from work.

Once the movie was over and they had said goodbye to their friends and driven home, Ziva grabbed the phone and went to look for her fiancé in the office.

“Sorry, did you want to watch TV?” Tim asked her, already in front of his computer. Ziva shook her head, leaning against the desk.

“Do you remember that I said I had talked to Sarah? And how she told me that you never really had a Christmas tradition, growing up?”

Tim furrowed his brows as he slowly nodded.

“Well, I was thinking. And it occurred to me that now we do. We have a tradition. That we spend Christmas with the team and we watch _It’s a Wonderful Life_ with each other, and exchange presents…”

“You want your presents.” Tim realized, moving to get up, but Ziva shook her head and gently pushed him back into his chair.

“No, I don’t want my presents.” she informed him. “But I was thinking that maybe you could add another tradition.” she said, holding out the receiver to him. Tim furrowed his brows in confusion.

“I talked to Penny, he’s home. Will be the whole evening. Your mother is there, too, so chances are she might answer the phone. Or your father does. But I don’t think it matters. I think they would both be happy to hear from their son on Christmas Eve.” Ziva softly told him, reaching out to squeeze his shoulder before she stood again, giving him some privacy and taking Jethro with her to the living room so he couldn’t distract Tim.

She was halfway through the second chapter of the book Abby had given her earlier when Tim appeared again, putting the phone back in its cradle. Ziva pulled her legs back to make room for him on the couch.

“That was a long conversation.” she softly said, watching him as he sat down and reached out to pull her feet into his lap, stroking a hand over the blanket.

“I called Sarah afterwards.” Tim told her, swallowing thickly.

“Do you want to talk about it?” Ziva offered softly, closing her book and putting it on the table. Tim swallowed again before he shook his head.

“No. No, I don’t want to talk about it.” he answered. Ziva shifted, sitting up and then turning around so she could cuddle close to him. McGee let her do that, wrapping an arm around her shoulder. The two of them sat there in silence for a while, Ziva taking his hand and tracing nonsense patterns on it with her thumb as she held it.

“Can we have dinner with Sarah tomorrow?” Tim suddenly asked, causing her to lean back in surprise before Ziva nodded.

“Sure.” she agreed. “Do you want to go over to her place, or-”

“There should be some steak in the freezer. We can make that, invite her here. She hasn’t seen the apartment yet…” McGee trailed off, casting a glance at her. “That is, if it’s not too much of a bother?” he asked, uncertainty ringing in his voice.

“No. No, it’s not. Just… well, steak isn’t really a Christmas dinner, is it?” Ziva lifted an eyebrow at him. Tim reached up to rub a hand over his face, sighing.

“You’re right. It was a stupid idea-”

“That’s not what I was saying.” Ziva interrupted him, getting up from the couch and tossing him the phone. “Call her, invite her. I’ll go to the grocery store quickly, pick up some things for a nice meal.”

“Ziva-”

She quickly leaned in, placing her index finger on his lips as she looked into his eyes. “I love you.” she said softly before leaning in to brush her lips over his. Afterwards, she went down the hallway, grabbing her jacket and putting on her boots, adding items to her mental shopping list as she thought about what she could possibly cook that was not the complete turkey dinner but a little more festive than the spaghetti and sauce she had had planned for just the two of them.


	13. 10x11 tag

Ziva brushed her hair behind her ear, shifting on her feet. After talking to Gibbs and more or less getting the rest of the day off, she had gone to find Tim to talk to him, getting into the elevator again after she had found that Tony seemed overly interested in what she had to say to her fiancé.

“When you said we needed to talk-” McGee started, frowning when he saw her bite her lip. Ziva had been rather weird yesterday evening when she had returned from the gym, too, but he’d brushed it off. Now, though, her behavior was making him rather anxious. Perhaps spending the entire holiday season together had not been such a good idea, maybe she was tired of being around him all the time-

“My father is in town.”

Or maybe her father was in town.

Tim breathed a sigh of relief before his frown deepened.

“He’s in DC?” he asked to clarify, the wheels in his head turning.

Ziva nodded, starting to pace the small space of the elevator.

“Yes. He showed up last night at the gym. Or rather, I found him sitting in my car when I had finished.” she explained, rubbing a hand over her face.

“Did he say why he was here?” her fiancé asked. He didn’t think that she’d told her father about the engagement yet. Or perhaps she had, and he’d decided to come scare him a bit. Make sure Tim understood what would happen if he broke Ziva’s heart, that sort of thing. Wasn’t that was father’s did to their future son-in-laws, after all?

“To spend time with me.” Ziva answered, shaking her head. “At least that’s what he said. I know, with him, that’ll hardly be the truth.”

“Ziva, no.” Tim shook his head quickly, reaching out to gently grab her elbow to at least get her to stop pacing and look at him. “No, maybe it is the truth. Maybe he wants to spend time with you, be part of your life again…”

“Now you’re adding your own wishful thinking on top of mine.” she softly said, her lip trembling slightly before Ziva let out a breath and stepped up to him, wrapping her arms around his middle and allowing Tim to pull her close. “I wish I could believe it.” she murmured as she rested her forehead against his chest, inhaling his scent. Being this close to him never failed to calm and reassure her.

“Okay, maybe he has some other plans. But that doesn’t mean he doesn’t want to spend time with you.” Tim offered, carefully letting go off her. Ziva reached up to wipe at the moisture in her eyes, shaking her head.

“I’m sorry I didn’t tell you yesterday, I just…”

“It’s okay.” McGee assured her, squeezing her hand. “What do you say, we have dinner together. Tonight. The three of us.” he suggested. “We can show him the new apartment; maybe tell him about the engagement…” Tim trailed off, searching her face. Ziva bit her lip as she furrowed her brows.

“Maybe. But I don’t want him at our place. Not, not when I’m not sure… There’s a kosher restaurant where we can eat, the one where we got the take-out from when Shmeil visited.”

Tim nodded in acceptance. If she didn’t want to invite her father into her home, he wasn’t going to argue about it with her. It was something he had come to realize quickly when their friendship had started years ago, that Ziva was reluctant to let anyone into her apartment, her home, most of the time, until she trusted the people implicitly. It was something that Mossad had taught her, that she had to protect her save haven, and he wasn’t going to push her into sharing it with her father when she wasn’t ready for that, when she didn’t trust him enough to allow him to see this side of her life.

“I’ll make reservations.” he told her, watching as her lips curved slightly upwards before she leaned in for a quick kiss.

“I love you.” she muttered, stroking his cheek before she leaned over and released the emergency stop, sending the elevator back on its way.

* * *

“What did you tell people you were having?” Eli asked, searching her face.

“It wasn’t real.” Ziva reminded him, yanking the pictures back.

“I know, but I’m sure people who didn’t know still asked.” her father insisted. “Come on, Ziva. Humor me.”

His daughter gave a soft sigh, looking down at the picture of her with the fake pregnancy belly. She hadn’t been with Tim back then, nor in any other relationship. It had ben pure pretend, but at the same time, she had almost enjoyed it. Back when the undercover op had taken place, she had still believed that she would never have children of her own, but for a few days, a little more than a week, she’d been allowed to pretend like she was about to have a child. Maybe that had been a good thing, getting that fantasy out of her head. And at that time, it had been nothing more than that, a fantasy she was sure would never become reality… How much her life had changed in the last year, it was incredible. Even with Tim being considered infertile, they might not have children this way, but for the first time in her life, Ziva felt like she was in a place that even allowed for the thought of having a family.

“I, uh, I told them I was having a girl.” she admitted reluctantly, watching her father give a soft smile.

“A girl.” he repeated softly, and she suddenly remembered how he happy he had been when he had been playing with Tali once. Ziva quickly shook her head. “Girls are… precious.”

“They are.” she agreed, knowing that her father was talking about her and her sister. The waitress came over, asking if they wanted something else and Ziva asked for a refill of their mugs.

“I thought we were finished with lunch.” Eli frowned lightly as Ziva squirmed in her seat, wiping her clammy hands on her pants.

“Yes, we are. But I have something I want to tell you, and I… rather do it here.” she admitted, unsure if she could pluck up the courage to tell her father about her engagement in a private setting, much less face his reaction. He was bound to control any anger as long as they were in public, and at that moment, Ziva needed the reassurance that he would control a possible negative reaction in order to keep from making a scene.

“Well, what is it?” Eli asked her, his eyes drifting to her phone on the table. “Do you have a boyfriend that you have not told me anything about?” he inquired, causing Ziva’s jaw to drop in surprise. “You’ve been fiddling around with your phone the whole day. So, is it true?”

“Yes.” she decided to just go with it. “Yes, I do have a… boyfriend. Well, not really a boyfriend, more of a-”

“Ah, do not start with this ‘casual relationship’ business.” her father interrupted her with a wave of his hand. He had never much approved of her concept of relationships when she decided to have them, and it seemed like that much hadn’t changed. Only now she was done with these casual things. She was looking for something permanent, or rather, she had found something permanent.

“I wasn’t about to.” Ziva quickly said, drawing a slow breath. “He is more like… my fiancé.” she admitted, her voice barely audible.

Eli spluttered into the mug he had just raised to his mouth and let out a cough.

“He what?” he asked and Ziva almost laughed at his shocked expression. “How long have you been seeing the guy?”

“A while.” she answered diplomatically as her father wiped his face with a napkin. “Over a year, actually.” Ziva revealed, bracing herself. When Eli merely blinked at her, she figured that she might as well deliver the final blow. “And _the guy_ ’s name is Timothy McGee.”

Now her father’s eyebrows hit his hairline as his eyes widened almost comically.

“The one with the computers?” he asked her in surprise, causing Ziva to shake her head slightly. Really, why was everyone so surprised when they found out that her and Tim were a couple?

“Yes. The one with the computers.” she confirmed, waiting for her father to react, for the news to catch up with him.

“Wait, wasn’t he the one that wrote these books? About the team, and you and Agent DiNozzo-”

“He has a very active imagination.” Ziva interrupted her father quickly before he could start again with whatever had happened or not between her and Tony. “And he doesn’t write LJ Tibbs novels anymore.”

Her father let out a slow breath, flexing his hands on the table as he slowly nodded.

“My daughter is engaged.” he softly said, a smile tugging at his lips.

“Shocking, I know.” Ziva let out a self-depreciating chuckle. To her surprise, her father shook his head.

“No. Not at all.” he said softly, leaning over the table to capture her hand. “I always knew some day there would be a man who would realize what a remarkable woman you are and decide to make you his.”

Ziva furrowed her brows, staring at their hands on the table before she slowly pulled hers back, reaching for her mug in an attempt to make it seem less rejecting and awkward.

“Well, actually, it was me who realized what a great guy he is and that I want to share the rest of my life with him.” she said. Her father let out a laugh at that.

“Now that does really sound like my daughter.” he grinned. “My Ziva.” he added, causing her to take a slow breath as she felt her heart warm a little at the joy she saw in her father’s eyes. Maybe not everything between them was lost, perhaps there was still enough left to rebuild their relationship. Slowly, gradually.

“Well, Tim and I want to invite you to have dinner with us, tonight.” she told him. “There’s a lovely restaurant that has a kosher menu-”

“Does it open on Shabbat?” Eli asked with a soft frown, causing his daughter to pause. She had almost forgotten that it was Friday.

“I, uh…” she stammered, feeling herself beginning to blush like she had when she was a teenager. She quickly shook her head, reminding herself that she was an adult, and that her obeying of religious traditions was her business alone. “I am not sure. Tim was going to make reservations; he hasn’t gotten back to me yet.”

Eli pursed his lips, nodded slowly. “We could always cook together.” her father offered, causing Ziva to frown before she shook her head. Now that was not taking one step before the other, it was crossing the finishing line before the race had even started.

“No. We, we are living together, and our kitchen… we went down the cheap route, not the kosher one. There’s only one fridge, no different silverware…” she trailed off, wondering why she suddenly felt the need to defend that decision. It wasn’t like her and Tim hadn’t discussed it. They had, and decided that they’d buy a house in a few years, where they could go all out on the kitchen stuff. Until then, they’d just make do with the standard kitchen. And it wasn’t like Ziva went crazy about the dietary rules of her religion. She made an attempt to keep kosher most of the time, but wasn’t plagued by guilt when she wasn’t able to, either.

“I see.” her father carefully said, watching her intently as she finished her coffee and stood, grabbing her coat. He slowly rose himself, putting on his own jacket and then following her out of the restaurant to her car.

* * *

“Ready for this?” Ziva asked him, adjusting his tie gently. Tim took a deep breath, checking his reflection in the mirror.

What choice did he have, really? It wasn’t like he could come up with a good reason as to why he would miss this dinner. They weren’t getting anywhere with the case, and Gibbs has specifically given Ziva the day off to entertain her father. And the invitation had come from the NCIS director.

“Not really.” he admitted, his voice shaking a little. He watched Ziva lean in over the sinks, checking her make-up again before she nodded, apparently satisfied by both their appearances.

When they entered the squad room again, Tony let out a low whistle.

“My, you two really got decked out.” he remarked, his eyes glued to Ziva in a way that made Tim consider clearing his throat. But his fiancée was more than capable of defending herself, reminding Tony of his rather unpleasant relationship with her father.

They were almost gone when Ziva remembered the gift for the director’s wife and moved to grab it from her desk, her eyes finding the pictures their dead journalist had taken. The Israeli froze, her heart jumping in her throat.

“Who is that?” she asked, swallowing thickly.

“Guy the victim was following. Most likely his killer.” Tony informed her, and she could feel everyone of the team watching her carefully.

“You okay?” Gibbs asked her and Ziva nodded quickly, swallowing.

“Yes.” she answered, turning around and leading the way to the elevator. Tim caught their boss’ look and gave a curt nod in acknowledgement. He’d try to get her to talk, but he had a feeling that she was just going to shut him out, whatever it was that had caused her mood to suddenly shift like this.

* * *

“Go ahead, my father and I have something to discuss.” Ziva told him as Tim turned off the ignition of the car. He hesitated briefly, not really wanting to show up on the doorstep alone, but then he caught her look in the rearview mirror and let out a soft sigh. McGee opened the door of the car and got out, accepting the bottle of wine from Ziva so he would at least not show up with empty hands.

He didn’t like the thought of his fiancée and her father sitting alone in the car. Something was up, Ziva had barely said a word on the drive her, it seemed like something was eating away at her and he had been close to pulling over the car and asking her what was wrong a few times, but whenever he had wanted to, he had caught her eyes in the rearview mirror and for some reason, they had seemed to plead with him not to push, not to ask her what was going on. So he hadn’t, he hadn’t tried to get her to talk, instead filled the silence with idle chatter to the point where he had started to feel ridiculous, hoping that they’d get to the director’s house faster.

To his regret, it was the director of opened the door. The man frowned at him when he realized that Tim was alone, and the Special Agent made a motion towards the car.

“They had something to discuss.” he explained with a shrug. Vance narrowed his eyes slightly before he let out a sigh and took a step aside, allowing McGee to enter the house. Which was a rather lovely home, he found. He had barely taken off his jacket when Ziva and Eli came in and instantly, Tim knew that whatever the two of them had talked about, it hadn’t been anything good. Ziva was coiled tight as a spring, ready to snap at any moment. As Eli followed Vance into the dining room, Tim reached out to grab her elbow, holding her back briefly.

“What’s going on?” he asked her softly, suddenly realizing that she had been crying. But Ziva just shook her head.

“Not now.” she breathed, reaching up to pinch the bridge of her nose. “Let’s just, get through dinner.” she softly added and McGee swallowed before he nodded, swallowing his protest. If she thought she could go through with this and push whatever was bothering her to the back of her mind, then he was not going to argue with her about it. Ziva knew better how much she could take than anyone else, he knew.

It turned out that she had been wrong, though. Her father had not even begun the blessing when Ziva rolled her eyes and let out a snort, throwing her napkin down and beating a hasty retreat.

“I’m sorry, I don’t know…” Tim muttered, getting up. “I’ll go check on her.” he said, following her hurriedly and finally catching up with her outside the house where she was trying to catch her breath. “Wanna tell me what this is about?” he asked her, casting a glance back to see if perhaps Vance or his wife or even her father had followed them outside.

Ziva shook her head, reaching up to cover her mouth.

“Ziva, you just left the table in our boss’s house-”

“Eli killed him.” his fiancée blurted, shaking her head as the tears welled up in her eyes. “He killed Wilkes, though he claims it was an accident. The man recognized him, and it ruined his plans and-” Ziva shook her head sharply, taking out her phone with trembling hands.

“What are you doing?” Tim asked her, reaching out to touch her elbow.

“Calling Gibbs to tell him. I should have done it the second I realized-” Ziva cut herself off to talk to their team leader. Tim tilted his head back and took a deep breath, wondering what on earth they had done to deserve this. First her crazy ex-boyfriend came to town and turned out to be a killer, and now her father? Before he could wonder why Ziva couldn’t catch a break, the night air erupted with rapid gunfire, and he acted on pure instinct, throwing his weight into her and knocking Ziva to the ground, covering their heads as best as he could as the bullets whizzed over them.

“You okay?” Tim asked her when the gunfire finally stopped, moving from on top of her. Ziva nodded, drawing her gun, Tim following suit. Ziva pointed at the house behind them, wordlessly telling him to check on the others as she hurried around the house in pursuit of the shooter.

The dining room was a mess, shards of porcelain had flown everywhere. Tim slowly made his way around the table, drawing deliberate breaths as his eyes settled on the trail of blood leading to the kitchen. He walked in, rounding the island and finding the director pressing towels to the bullet wound in his wife’s chest. Tim swallowed thickly, handing him another towel before he took out his cell phone and called for an ambulance, mentally kicking himself that he hadn’t already done so when he’d just gotten off the gravel in the driveway.

When he had hung up, he went back to the dining room, deciding to help Eli. He found him leaning against the doorjamb, his breaths coming in ragged gasps. Tim put away his gun, crouching down next to the man.

“Help is on its way, director.” he told the man, his eyes skimming over the growing patches of red on the man’s shirt. Oh God, this wasn’t good. This wasn’t good at all.

He felt Eli grab his hand when he reached out to loosen the man’s tie, and Tim’s eyes snapped to those of Ziva’s father. He saw something pass behind them and Eli’s lips moved silently before he gave a last rattling breath before falling quiet, the hand that had gripped Tim’s slackening and dropping to the floor. McGee closed his eyes, his knees giving out and causing him to fall back on his ass onto the floor as he rubbed a hand over his face, drawing a ragged breath as the reality of what had just happened started hitting him.

* * *

He rose after a few minutes that felt more like an eternity. His body was aching, protesting against being thrown to the ground and then the uncomfortable position he had sat next to the body of Ziva’s father… Speaking of Ziva, he could hear her outside, snapping at DiNozzo. Tim flinched, feeling guilty that it was Tony who was the first one in her path. Maybe it should’ve been him that stepped outside. He could have told here then, prepared her for what she was going to find…

Only when he found himself face to face with Ziva, the words suddenly got stuck in his throat and he couldn’t get them out. He couldn’t do it, he couldn’t tell her that her father was dead, that he had died while she had been chasing down his shooter. That the last member of her family had just been taken from her.

And then Ziva walked past him, slowly, carefully, halting in her steps when her eyes settled on the limp form of her father, still in the doorway, like Tim had found him. The second her voice rang out, his heart shattered for her and his eyes filled with tears as he watched her rush over to her father, crying, muttering in Hebrew as she sunk to the floor next to Eli’s body, cradling him close to her as the tears started running down her face.

Tim felt Tony reach out to grab his arm but shook him off, slowly walking over to where his fiancé was sitting, rocking herself back and forth and stroking her father’s head, mumbling words that he couldn’t figure out as she shook Eli’s body, as if attempting to wake him from sleep.

“Ziva.” he whispered her name as he crouched down next to her, reaching out slowly to touch her shoulder. She didn’t hear him, didn’t notice him until his fingers brushed against her jacket, when she suddenly recoiled, her eyes snapping to his. The anguish in them took his breath away and he dropped to the floor, scooting close, holding out his arm to her. Ziva hesitated briefly before she let go of her father, turned around to hide her face in his neck, sobs shaking her body as he wrapped his arms around her, cradled her head against his shoulder. He felt her clutch at him, her fingers sinking into his flesh almost painfully as Ziva fought to breathe, her throat constricting.

“Sh, it’s okay.” Tim muttered, rocking her slightly as he tried to comfort her. “It’s okay, Ziva. I got you. I’ve got you.”


	14. 10x12 tag

“McGee.” Tim answered his cell phone softly, trying not to disturb Ziva as she was praying softly further down the aisle in the synagogue.

“Where the hell are you? And please tell me that Ziva is with you, because if she’s not-”

“Relax, Tony.” McGee sighed into the receiver, reaching up to pinch the bridge of his nose. “Ziva’s with me, we’re at the synagogue.” he told the older man. Tony’s relieved sigh carried over the line and Tim turned his head to see Ziva stand slowly.

“I have to go, Tony.” he quickly said and hung up, taking a few steps towards his fiancée. “Hey.” he softly said and Ziva turned around, watching him with a soft frown.

“Who was that?” she asked him, looking pointedly at the cell phone in his hands.

“Tony, he- I’m sorry, I should have stepped outside.” Tim apologized. Ziva shook her head slowly, turning around.

“It’s not like anyone is here to notice.” she murmured, her shoulder’s sagging slightly before she straightened.

“We can leave now.” she informed him. Tim searched her face, reaching out to touch her, but she just pulled back her arm.

“Ziva, I’m so sorry-”

“Sympathy is the last thing I need right now.” she cut him off quickly, blinking a few times. Tim bit his lip to keep from snapping at her.

“Then what do you need?” he asked her softly. “Because I wanna help you, but I have no idea how…” he trailed off, searching her face before he took a step closer. “Just, tell me what to do. Tell me what you need, please, Ziva.”

She looked up into his green eyes, hers turning from sad to cold.

“Revenge.” she said, her voice ringing strong inside the synagogue. “What I need, is revenge. Can you give me that?”

* * *

She’s never felt so useless in her life. Well, once. One time she did. When her mother died. But that was so long ago, she was still a child then.

Ever since then, death has left her with a deep longing of taking action. Of doing something. And living in Israel, being a part of Mossad, that something usually meant taking revenge on whoever was responsible for the deaths of those she loved.

After Tali’s death, she spent months plotting it. Barely ate, barely slept, the one thing that kept her going was the thought of putting the bastards that had taken her sister from her in their own graves.

And now her father is dead, and everyone is shutting her out. She’s off the case, doesn’t even deserve to be kept in the loop. Ziva is more than aware that only her friendship with Abby gets her the little information she receives.

At least she has Tim off her back for a while. She loves him, but right now, she can’t stand the thought of anyone touching her. And his hovering is getting annoying. This is not the first time she has lost someone, she won’t break because of it. Nor will she disappear just because he turns his back for ten seconds. And she knows she’s being irrational, knows he just wants to help, but he has no idea what to say to her, and it just makes his clumsy attempts at comforting her worse. His family is still alive. Dysfunctional, yes, but all of them are still walking the earth, still breathing, their hearts still beating. All she has left are scattered remains and gravestones and a body lying in autopsy, waiting for burial.

Being close to her father’s body gives her some sense of solace. So does talking to Ducky. It is strange to think about the last time she had this kind of conversation with him, when she was with Michael Rivkin’s body. Though she still means what she said then. Rituals only work for those who need them, and Ziva isn’t sure if getting revenge hasn’t become her own ritual.

* * *

“Look at me, I am fine!” Ziva exclaims, but judging from her boss’s glare, he’s the last one to believe that statement.

“Good. The go be fine somewhere else.” he tells her, motioning for Tony to step close as Ziva inclines her head, biting her tongue to keep herself from snapping at him. “Go find them a safe house.”

At that her head snaps up again and she stares at her boss.

“Gibbs-”

“As long as we’re not sure that you’re not a target, you’re not going back to your apartment, and neither is McGee.”

“What do you want me to do, hide away like a coward?” Ziva spits at him. Gibbs takes a step towards her, staring into her eyes before he gives a sharp shakes of his head, leaving autopsy quickly. And leaving Ziva to kick at the wall of drawers, hitting her hand against it in frustration. Because he just refused her what she has been craving since she held her father’s body in her arms the day before. It’s the reason she’s pushing Tim away, it’s the reason she’s yanking on Gibbs’ chain. To get a rise out of them and have them confront her, so that it can escalate into a fight and she can finally scream and yell without having to feel like she is over-reacting.

* * *

Tim set down the duffel bag, closing the door to the apartment behind them.

“Wanna tell me what this was about?” he asks her, watching as Ziva walks over to the window and stands there with her back to him.

“What was what about?”

McGee let out a slow breath, shifting on his feet.

“Asking for separate bedrooms?” he reminds her. Ziva turns her head, casting a short glance at him.

“Jewish custom forbids having sex until Shiva is completed.” she tells him, her voice flat. She doesn’t see him furrow his brows but hears him take a step towards her, and another one, until she can almost feel him breathing down her neck again.

“Ziva, I- I don’t want to sleep in one bed to have sex. I just want to hold you, comfort you-”

“I told you,” Ziva interrupts him, turning around and looking over his shoulder, “that sympathy is not what I need.” she adds before pushing past him, closing the door to the bathroom behind her.

* * *

When she emerges an hour later, after a long shower that did not help relax her any, she finds Shmeil sitting on the couch. And she doesn’t even care where he suddenly comes from, only that he is there.

Hugging him, Ziva suddenly feels the tears return to her eyes and blinks them away furiously, trying to put on a brave face, like it is requested of her. But her friend reaches up to cradle her head and she loses her battle with her emotions, hiding her face in his neck as her body starts shaking with silent sobs.

She falls asleep on the couch, but wakes up in bed hours later; staring at Tim’s shocked face as he holds her wrist tightly, her hand inches from his face, a split second from striking him.

“You were having a nightmare.” he softly tells her, carefully letting go. She falls back into the cushions, closing her eyes as she covers her face with her arm, her one hand still resting on his arm, the hold she has on him tightening.

“This isn’t a nightmare.” she whispers and feels him sit down on her bed. She pulls her legs back to make room for him, looking up at him, the light coming from the hallway putting his face half in shadows. It’s strange, she’s lived half her life in them, called the shadows her home, but seeing Tim like this, it feels wrong to her. He’s not like this, not cut out for this sort of life.

Wordlessly, she scoots over and gives a gentle tug at his arm. Tim comes willingly, lying down next to her and pulling the cover back over them as she rests her head on his chest, her arm thrown over his waist. His hand rubs soft circles over her lower back, touching her skin where her tank top has ridden up, but when her breath hitches, he pulls it back down, covering her again as he presses a gentle kiss to her hair.

Her tears are hot on her cheeks and soak into his shirt and she thinks her hold on him might be starting to get painful, but still she can’t bring herself to let up, on the contrary, she suddenly wants to pull him even closer, needs him so much closer than this.

He seems hesitant, probably recalls her reasoning why she wanted separate bedrooms earlier, but when her hands keeps wandering and finally pull his shirt over his head, the protest dies on his lips and he gives in. But when Tim starts moving inside her, she suddenly thinks that there is another reason why such things are not allowed, because she finds that nothing quite seems to make her forget, not even her fiancé’s touch, and she pushes him away before they’re getting anywhere, sits up and grabs her clothes before leaving her room.

* * *

He finds her at the table the next morning, staring at the screen of his laptop. When he steps up behind her, she has a game of solitaire open, causing him to furrow his brows.

“Solitaire?” he asks her, sitting down next to her. Ziva just raises an eyebrow, causing him to sigh. “Ziva-”

“I don’t want to talk about it.” she tells him. This time, he glares at her, setting his jaw.

“Fine.” he snaps, clenching his jaw briefly before he reaches out to close the laptop. “Then we’re gonna talk about who you’ve been emailing.” he tells her. At her incredulous look, he takes out his cellphone, showing her the “Email sent” notification. Ziva curses softly under her breath. She should have known that using his laptop would probably trigger some weird security thing.

“I can open them.”

“You’d spy on me?” she asked him, getting up from her chair. “Unbelievable!”

“Gibbs has ordered us to keep Eli’s death a secret.”

“I know that!” Ziva yells, wheeling around and glaring daggers at him, anger burning in her dark eyes. Tim rises, deciding that he’s done backing down. If she wants a fight, fine, she can have one.

“Yeah, then how about you tell me what you’ve been writing about in Hebrew?”

His fiancée recoils slightly, as if he just slapped her. “You’ve read them.” she accuses and Tim shakes his head.

“No. No, I just checked the recipients. On Gibbs’ orders.” he tells her, searching her face. “Ziva, whoever killed your father might be after you now.”

“Do you not think I am aware of that?”

“Then I don’t understand why you-”

“And I never mentioned my father’s death to any of my contacts. I made inquiries about his enemies. Funnily enough, I learned that one of my father’s former protégés is in DC, looking for me. Did you keep this from me because Gibbs also ordered you to?”

Tim swallows thickly, averting his gaze. He hears her exhale loudly and watches her starting to pace the kitchen.

“We’re trying to protect you, Ziva.”

“I do not need your protection.” she snorts in derision.

“Clearly. You don’t need compassion, or sympathy, or the protection of the team…” he trails off, shaking his head. “I love you.” he tells her, his voice softer. “And I don’t want to leave you alone right now.”

“What if I wanted to be alone?” she asks him, looking at him before her eyes skid away and she reaches up to brush her hand through her hair. “Go back to NCIS.” she softly says, her hands falling limply at her sides. “Shmeil’s here, I have your number…” she trails off, closing her eyes. “I think I need to be alone now.” she adds, her voice barely audible.

He bites back the reminder that she had a lot of alone last night. Or that while he has been around physically, she’s been emotionally shutting him out ever since she let go of her father’s body.

So he just stands there before he nods and then grabs his NCIS backpack, leaving the apartment. When the door closes behind him, it feels like he didn’t just walk out of a room.

* * *

She’s pouring herself a glass of water when the laptop Tim left behind chimes, signaling an incoming voice call. She contemplates briefly whether to accept it or not, but then figures it might be one of her friends or contacts and finally allows the call to go through. Her surprise is rather big when the face of her father’s former protégé fills the screen.

“Ilan.” she greets him, sitting down at the table again.

“Shalom, Ziva. It is good to see it.” the man smiles at her and Ziva finds herself remembering all the times he was a guest at their home, how close they used to be…

“It is good to see you, too.” she admits, drawing a slow breath.

“I was told about your father, Ziva. I am so very sorry.” he softly tells her.

Ziva inclines her head.

“He was fond of you.” she allows, only to have the current Deputy Director of Mossad smile again.

“And of you.” he grins. “He was always going on about you, boasting about his American daughter.”

The news startle her. That her father may have been proud of her. That he might not have been completely lying when he told her that she was in the country to see her. She never considered that he was not just merely tolerating her life choices these past few years, but might have embraced them. And the knowledge of never having heard it from him, that he was proud of her, it hurts. It hurts more than she thought possible, more than she wants to admit even to herself. Because if he was so proud of her, then why could he not just tell her that?

And then he suggests that they meet, telling her that she shouldn’t be alone now, shouldn’t have to face the loss of her father on her own. And she wants to tell him she’s not, that she has the team, that she has Tim. But the words don’t make it past her lips. Because Tim left. He went to work, where she is not allowed to be.

“Do not make me find you, Ziva.” Ilan teases her and she nods, readily giving him the address. It will be good to talk about her father with someone who was held in high esteem by the man, who doesn’t seen his failures first and measures all his accomplishments against them only to have him come up short still.

* * *

“What now?” she answers the phone, looking around the room as she straightens it out for Ilan’s visit.

“Ziva, does the word virtue mean anything to you?”

The woman furrows her brows, straightening and checking briefly that it was indeed Tim’s number flashing on her screen when she picked up.

“Yes, Gibbs.” she says, bracing herself for a rant, a reminder that Eli’s death is still under wraps. None such comes, however.

“It’s the name of the account that paid the hitman.” Tim tells her and she draws a slow breath. Well, at least they are making progress in finding her father’s killer.

“Does it mean anything to you, maybe in another language? Farsi?”

“No, no, it doesn’t.” she shakes her head, trying to figure it out, closing her eyes and berating herself. Focus, Ziva, this is important. She can almost hear her father whisper it into her ear-

“It’s not Russian, either. What about Arabic? Hebrew?”

The magazine she held in her hand falls to the floor as her heart skips a beat.

“Ziva?” Tim’s voice calls out to her over the phone and she clenches her eyes shut.

“In Hebrew, it’s also a middle name. The middle name of Ilan Bodnar.” she tells them, pinching the bridge of her nose to refrain from smacking herself for her own stupidity. “He’s coming here.”

“To the apartment?!” Tim’s voice is higher than usual and she wants to bang her head against the wall. She should have seen this coming, how could she miss this?

“I am armed.” she tells them, her breath hitching in her throat.

“We’re on our way.” Gibbs tells her and Ziva is praying that they will be fast enough. The man was trained by her own father, and her own skills have been getting a little rusty…

“There’s a spare gun in the duffle bag. Use it!” Tim’s voice carried over the line before the call ends abruptly and Ziva is scrambling for her gun, trying to arm herself and brace herself what will be coming.

* * *

When the door opens, she almost pulls the trigger. And almost ends up shooting her boss and her fiancé.

“You should have knocked!” she tells them, throwing her arms around Tim and hugging him tightly. He staggers back in surprise but then his arms wrap around her and he hugs her to him, holding her close.

“Bodnar?”

“He never showed.” she tells Gibbs when Tim lets her go, shaking her head. “Call DiNozzo.” he instructs the man and Tim gets out his cell phone, stepping away reluctantly. Gibbs looks out the window before stepping up to her, searching her face.

“You alright?” he asks and the answer flies to her lips but then she can’t make herself say it. She’s tired, so tired. Tired of being alright, tired of being fine, tired of not being affected by this.

“Honestly, I am not sure what I am right now.” she admits and Gibbs reaches out, squeezing her upper arm when Tim returns to them with the news that their prime suspect has decided to make a run for it.

* * *

“I will be with you in a minute.” Ziva assures Shmeil, seeing the older man cast a look at Tim standing in the background.

“Take your time. It will be a long flight.” he reminds her gently, squeezing her hands before he leaves for the plane again. Ziva watches him disappear before turning around, facing her fiancé.

“You’re sure you wanna do this alone?” he asks her softly. Ziva takes a slow breath, thinking.

“Yes.” she answers him finally. “I need some time to myself. To mourn him. Besides, I would not wish for the first time you see Israel to be under these circumstances.” she adds, searching his face. The tension goes out of him slightly then and a small smile tugs at his lips.

“Yeah, well, I don’t like letting you leave on your own.” he tells her, reaching out to stroke her cheek as he takes a step closer. Ziva reaches up to cover his hand, closing her eyes as she savors the touch.

“I have company.” she reminds him as she blinks open her eyes again. “Besides, Gibbs needs you here.” she points out, giving his hand a gentle squeeze.

Tim holds up a paper bag, making her frown.

“Just something to read, gum…” he tells her, and Ziva wraps his arms around him, hugging him tightly before she kisses him, her hands going to his hair. Tim’s hold on her tightens and he pulls her closer, almost lifting her off the ground.

“You’re not alone, Ziva.” he whispers against her forehead and she nods. “Be safe.”

“I will be.” she assures him before taking the bag from him and hugging him a last time before she steps away, making her way to the plane that will bring her father’s body home. That will bring her home for the first time since she returned from the dead.


	15. filler up to 10x13

It was strange to be back in Israel. When she came to the US after Somalia and decided to become an American citizen, she had longed to return to her home for months. Maybe it had been her wanting the impossible, but the truth is, Israel had been her home. And more often than not, it had been her safe place. Which was strange, considering her job, and the violence still rampant in her country. The fear among her people. But she had grown up here, in its culture. And when she had been outside the country, on a mission, leaving the airport upon her return had marked the moment when she had been home again, had known that from that point onward, she was safe. That anyone attacking her would not just have to deal with her, but with half of Mossad coming to her help.

She had missed Israel over the last two years. Even after gaining her American passport, she had not gone to visit the country. She had toyed around with the idea, considered it, but ultimately always pushed it from her mind. Thought it would be too dangerous, that her relationship with her father was too strained, that they had too much work at NCIS for her to leave for a few days.

Now Ziva wished that her first return since she left would not be marked by her escorting her father’s body home.

She finds herself a hotel room in Jerusalem. The last time she was in the city was so long ago that most of it feels foreign to her. Not the people, though, and it warms her heart to be surrounded with Hebrew again. The first day she is there, she finds a small café and sits down, closing her eyes to listen to the people talk. The sun shines in through the window, hitting her face, and she lets the language wash over her, soaks it up and feels herself beginning to heal.

When her father was a little boy, he used to pick olives from the trees and earn himself a little money. By now, most plantations have workers and do not tolerate outsiders to come and pick their fruit. She finds a small plantation and asks if she might help out. To her surprise, the old woman in charge looks at her long and hard before she wordlessly hands her a basket and points towards the trees. Maybe it’s her clothing that gives her away. She didn’t tear it and isn’t wearing the same things she wore when she found out about her father’s death, but she can’t bring herself to dress in anything else but black, even under the Israeli sun.

Her mother took her to the Wailing Wall when she was little. She’s been there four times since then, after her mother’s death, after she lost Tali, when she was accepted into the Kidon unit, and when she was with Michael. The last visit she did not leave anything at the wall, but merely accompanied him when he mourned the loss of his brother.

Being here, it makes her think of all the things she has done the past few years, makes her think of everything that has happened. She briefly wonders if her father may have visited the place during the months he believed her to be dead. She knows Malachi went.

It’s hard to get a decent coffee here, but she’s always been fond of tea, her latest bout of coffee drinking no doubt related to Tim always making too much in the morning. She missed her jasmine tea more than she thought, she finds when she has a cup of it in the food court at Mossad Headquarters.

Shmeil offers her the bed in his guest bedroom and she accepts it willingly. She doesn’t have the money for another hotel room, and doesn’t wish to sleep in her father’s apartment, either.

With him, she walks the streets of Tel Aviv and visits the places of her childhood. The dance studio she used to take lessons in doesn’t exist any more. The building was damaged in a suicide bombing years ago and torn down as a consequence.

She sneaks into a lecture at university. One on basic moral principles. Sits and only listens half to what is being said. Most of her concentration is taken up by watching the students. Scribble on notepads, type on their laptops or fiddle around with their phones. She closes her eyes and when she opens them again, she tries to imagine her sister among these people. It isn’t hard to do, some of these students must have just finished school. They are still young, still children. Children that have seen too much already. It’s still fifteen minutes before class is over when she gets up and leaves, slowly making her way down empty hallways. Most of the students are outside or in the library, studying, or still in class.

Shmeil’s old office is now occupied by another member of the faculty. She even remembers the man. He used to be in a few of her courses. Funny, how things worked out for them. For a few moments, Ziva allows herself to imagine herself in his place. It could have been her. If she hadn’t gone into Mossad but remained at university like Shmeil has encouraged her to do, it could be her name on the door now. But she went into Mossad. She became a member of the Kommemiute, became an assassin and a control officer, got herself almost killed a couple of times, lost her virginity in a weapon’s carrier, buried her sister, saved Jenny’s life, shot her own brother, started working at NCIS and learned what it meant to truly be a part of a team, of a family, something she hadn’t had in years then.

That evening, she is quiet as her and Shmeil share the Shabbat dinner. The first one since her father died. She doesn’t feel like saying anything, doesn’t feel much like talking at all. Still, in her room, she grabs her laptop and turns it on, opening the messenger and signing in with her private account. The little circle next to Tim’s name is red, signaling that he is offline, and she lets out a soft sigh. She didn’t really feel like talking and she’s not sure if she would have messaged him, anyway, but just knowing that she could have might’ve helped chase these thoughts that are circling in her head away.

Her eyes drift shut slowly, until she jerks awake a few hours later. It’s the middle of the night for her and she sits up, rubbing a hand over her eyes. The candles have gone out long ago, the only light in the room is provided by her laptop. Where the messaging window blinks.

She frowns and clicks to open the new conversation, her heart jumping when she sees Tim’s name on the screen, asking her if she is still up.

Ziva hesitates before answering truthfully.

“Fell asleep. You woke me.”

“Sorry.” is his prompt reply. She sees the three dots indicating that he’s typing and hurries to be faster than him.

“Can I see you?” she asks, biting her lip when the typing stops. She is almost betting that he has no interest in talking to her, after she ignored him for almost a week, but then the video call notification pops up and she quickly accepts it.

“I can’t see you.” Tim frowns. He looks tired, worn out.

“It’s Shabbat. No electricity.” Ziva reminds him softly before she gets up to light the thick candle on her nightstand to provide some light to see by and get changed into her PJs away from the webcam.

“So what’s the laptop running on?” Tim teases her and she gets back into bed, waiting until he can see her roll her eyes before she reaches up to rub a hand over them. It makes him sober. “You look tired.”

“I haven’t been sleeping well.” she admits, hesitating. “I miss you.” she breathes, barely resisting the urge to reach out and touch the screen. It would just remind her how far apart they are right now.

“I miss you, too.” Tim murmurs, sighing before his face lights up. “Hang on.” he tells her and the video jumps around, until it steadies again and Ziva can recognize their bedroom.

“What are you doing?” she asks him, a soft smile tugging on her lips.

“You told me that hearing my voice sometimes helps.” Tim tells her, making a show of getting comfortable on the bed. “Go on, lie back.” he encourages her, and Ziva rolls her eyes as she lies down, shifting around until she finds a comfortable position where she can still see the laptop screen.

“And now?” she asks him, wondering what on earth he has planned.

“I don’t know.” Tim admits, shrugging. “I could read to you? I finished another chapter.”

“No, thank you.” Ziva shakes her head. She isn’t a little child that needs a bedtime story. Though she does have to admit that her eyes are growing heavy again.

“Tell me about the case. NCIS. Anything you’ve done.” she requests instead. As Tim launches into a detailed recount of their latest murder investigation, Ziva tries to keep her eyes open until she closes them, figuring that she could just concentrate on his voice this way, let it wash over her and make her relax…

Almost two hours after he called her first, Tim smiles to himself as he watches her sleep before he reaches out to mute the microphone on his end. Hanging up would make Ziva’s laptop chime with the end of the call, and probably wake her up. So he just sets it down on the night stand before leaving the room to get Jethro and go for a walk with the dog, hoping that when he wakes up in the morning, Ziva might be able to tell him when she comes back.


	16. 10x13 tag

“Hey.”

Tim looked up from digging around in his backpack, raising an eyebrow at Tony.

“What?”

“How is she?” his friend asked, nodding in the direction where Ziva was standing, interviewing the two elderly men that found the bodies. He furrowed his brows, not because he didn’t want to answer Tony, but because he didn’t really have an answer. She seemed fine most the time, but then he’ll catch her staring into the distance with an empty look in her eyes…

“She’s better.” he finally settled on something to say. “Told me Israel was therapeutic for her.”

“Therapeutic good or bad?” Tony inquired, making Tim shrug. He’d like to think that it was a good thing for her to visit her country again, but the circumstances it happened under weren’t exactly the best, so…

Ziva hadn’t talked about what she did in Israel, not really. Just that she buried her father and did some soul-searching. Not that she used these words, exactly.

At least she was back to sleeping at the apartment again. When she came back almost a week ago, she stayed at Gibbs’ place for two night, out of the blue. He’d thought that she might’ve still been mad at him, for leaving when she had told him to (women and their logic, really, he doubted he’d ever truly get the hang of it), but then she had assured him that that hadn’t beenthe case. Just that she’d needed to be around someone else, someone who wouldn’t try to push her to talk and where she would not feel bad about not talking, either.

But now she was back at the apartment, and he was starting to feel like he didn’t have to treat around eggshells with her any more. It was a good thing, because he knew Ziva was getting angry at him for doing it, for acting like he couldn’t make the slightest mention of death without having her suddenly fall apart.

She was still wearing black, though. He’d found her in the bedroom this morning, holding up a purple shirt before she’d tossed it aside and grabbed another black one before retrieving her pants from the drier, cursing softly when she’d found that there was a ball of dog hair stuck to them. When he’d asked her what that had been about, she’d told him that she had thought she might wear something else on her first day back to work, but when she had tried to put the shirt on, it had felt wrong to her. Like she couldn’t stand to see the color on herself, couldn’t bear to catch a glimpse of it in the mirror. Black, for some reason, felt better. It wasn’t that she was still sad, well, she was. But she was slowly getting over it, though she had apparently not arrived at the stage where a splash a color in her wardrobe was a welcome thing. Though the jacket she had chosen was a dark brown, and Tim had seen her hesitate briefly before she had pulled that from the closet and put it on, checking her reflection before Ziva had given a satisfied nod.

Slow baby steps. It seemed like that was the way to go about this.

* * *

“The purpose of us running is that you lose weight!” Tim calls after the dog as Jethro runs straight to his food in the kitchen and empties the bowl as quickly as he can. The NCIS agent shook his head and went to the living room, finding his fiancée sitting cross legged on the floor on a yoga mat, doing what seemed to be breathing exercises.

“Sorry.” he apologized softly. Ziva took another slow breath before she opened her eyes and looked up at him, a soft smile tugging on her lips.

“It’s fine.” she assured him, getting up from the floor and stretching before giving him a short kiss. “While you go have a shower, how about I order some Chinese?” she suggested as Tim took of his running jacket.

“Sounds great, you know what I like.” he smiled at her before disappearing into the bathroom to wash the sweat from his body.

They were halfway through their meal when he decided that it was okay to ask. At least, Ziva hadn’t given any indication that she did not want to talk about it just yet, and she did seem a bit more upbeat this evening…

“So, how was…”

“Therapy?” she asked him with a raised eyebrow before grabbing her water and taking a sip. Tim inclined his head. “I think it’s actually called ‘grief counseling’. Not that Doctor Cranston is that eager to put a name on it.” Ziva tilted her head, frowning at the few noodles she had grabbed with her chopsticks. “Though that may be because she thinks I will run if I fully realize that I am actually taking someone else’s help for once.”

“How was it?” Tim repeated the question and heard her sigh. Okay, maybe it hadn’t been such a good idea to ask.

“Better than the first two.” Ziva admitted, chewing thoughtfully. “I’m still not sure if I need to talk about this with a stranger, but I… guess it’s helping.” she revealed. “I feel better, after talking to her.”

“And that’s all that matters.” Tim nodded, watching as she placed down her chopsticks and watched him carefully.

“You’re not mad? Or the least bit upset that I pay money to have a stranger listen to me instead of talking to you? My fiancé?” Ziva asked him. The NCIS agent shrugged, swallowing. If he had to be completely honest, it had stung when she had told him she wanted to see Cranston for this. It hadn’t been her wanting to talk to a professional, but the fact that she had still been shutting him out. Then again, he wasn’t sure if he shouldn’t be glad that Ziva didn’t subject him to her trying to work out her issues. He knew her relationship with Eli had been strained at best and it had seemed like the first session with the shrink had left her rather agitated.

“Mad, no.” he shook his head. “If you don’t think you can talk to me about it, then that’s your choice. I just, I was… sad. Because you were shutting me out so completely.” he admitted slowly, searching her face.

Ziva nodded thoughtfully, reaching out for her glass of water to take a sip.

“Would you like to come?” she suddenly asked, her tone carefully neutral. Tim’s eyes widened slightly and he placed his fork down.

“You sure you want me to?” he inquired, watching her. Ziva opened her mouth before letting out a measured breath.

“I know I do not mean you shut you out.” she told him, hesitating. “The reason why I am more comfortable with talking to Cranston, it’s because… she’s a professional. She doesn’t care about me beyond my being her patient. I don’t have to face her after I tell her things, and I don’t… I don’t have to be afraid of her judging me for my thoughts.” Ziva said, biting her lip. “There are things in my head, things I’ve thought, and I… am not sure you would like me if you knew about them.” she added, her voice barely audible.

Tim furrowed his brows as he shook his head quickly, getting up from his chair and crouching down next to her. He grabbed her hand and pressed a soft kiss to it before looking up at her.

“I love you, Ziva.” he softly said, squeezing her hand before he reached up to stroke her cheek as she closed her eyes. He had seen the tears welling up in them. “And I think I can imagine what sort of thoughts you’re talking about. And after everything you’ve been through, everything Eli’s done…” Tim paused to swallow, “I don’t judge you for it, either. And I may not be a psychiatrist, but for what my opinion is worth, I think those thoughts, they’re normal.”

At that, Ziva let out a soft sob before leaning forward, hiding her face in his neck as she started crying. Tim fell forward on his knees and hugged her as best as he could giving their awkward position and just let her cry.

* * *

The next morning he had a lot of difficulty getting out of bed. Maybe that was because Ziva didn’t wake him up with a kiss for once. When Tim had finally managed to drag himself to the bathroom and got himself cleaned up before he managed to dress, his watch was showing him that there would be no time left to make coffee or have a decent breakfast, not if he wanted to be on time.

Just when he had come to terms with Ziva going straight to work after her run for a change, he stumbled into the kitchen to find a mug filled with coffee held out to him. Tim blinked in surprise, his hands going out to accept the beverage as he wondered when exactly it had gotten to the point where waking up without Ziva had become such a difficulty for him as his fiancée pressed a soft kiss to his cheek and darted past him to the bedroom to get dressed herself, but not before holding out a plate with a piece of toast with honey on it for him.

When she returned, he had just put away the dishes. At the sight of her, a soft smile stole across his face and he walked up to her, resting his hands on her waist.

“What?” Ziva asked, pausing in fixing her ponytail when she saw his expression.

“Nothing. I just love you.” he shrugged, leaning in for a real kiss this time, one that left her blinking at him with a slightly dazed expression. “We better get going.” he murmured, letting go of her to grab his jacket and their backpacks. When he handed Ziva hers, she gave him another confused look, but he merely smiled at her and watched her exit the apartment before him, adjusting her jacket over the red turtleneck she was wearing, a piece of clothing he hadn’t liked all that much before but now was sure it was quickly becoming his favorite, since it was the first actual piece with a color she was wearing since her father’s death.


	17. 10x14 tag

“So, how is it going?” Cranston asked, looking at Ziva expectantly. The NCIS agent shrugged, drawing a slow breath to stop herself from saying that things were great. Because they weren’t, not really, and the point of this was to talk about what was bothering her, even when it was hard to put into words or uncomfortable to discuss.

“We… had an interesting case.” she said instead, furrowing her brows.

“Anything you wish to discuss?” Rachel gently prompted, causing Ziva to sigh. The Israeli crossed and uncrossed her legs before she rose, pacing the length of the office while she crossed her arms, hugging herself. “Ziva?”

“I keep thinking about Eli. And comparing him and his work ethic to Gibbs.” she admitted, inhaling through her nose. “And I know that it’s not fair, and it is not helpful, either. I know why my father made the choices he did, he never had the same luxury Gibbs has. Yet I feel like… I feel that Gibbs is more concerned about me in situations that are far from being as dangerous as the things I used to do for Mossad, while under my father’s command, and-” she cut herself off with a sharp shake of her head. Ziva worried her lip, hesitating before she turned around to face Rachel again.

“When we made the plan to confront the guy in an alley, I was supposed to be the distraction. He was a cyber-terrorist, so there was only a slim chance of him being armed, and I was fine with it. Yet Gibbs insisted on making sure that I was comfortable, he, he gave me an _out_. If I had told him I wasn’t sure about this, we wouldn’t have done it this way.”

“Your suspect ended up pulling a gun on you.” Cranston reminded her, but Ziva shook her head.

“That is not the point. The point is, Gibbs, he, he feels guilty about what happened when I did not get hurt, yet my father sent me to my own death without so much as batting his eyes. He sent me on missions that went south, where I got injured. There were times when I barely made it out alive. Yet he never showed that he felt uncomfortable doing so, that making these choices, hurt him. ‘It is what it is.’ I learned that from him. There was no use moping over decisions that had to be made, that couldn’t be changed.”

Cranston wrote down something on her notepad before looking up at her again.

“How does that make you feel?”

Ziva deflated, shaking her head. “I… am not sure.” she admitted, reaching up to rub a hand over her face. “Angry, I think.”

“Why?”

“Because… because I was his daughter!” she exclaimed. “I was his child, at one point I was his only remaining family. Yet he sent me to my death, let me rot in a Somali terrorist camp for months while he had every reason to believe I had died. He never showed that he regretted making that decision, he never told me he was sorry.”

Ziva gave a sharp shake of her head, holding out a hand in surrender.

“But that, that wasn’t why I asked for an earlier appointment.” she revealed, walking back to the couch and sitting down.

“Now that surprises me.” Cranston muttered, tilting her head at her patient expectantly.

“It’s Tim.” Ziva started, furrowing her brows. “Last year, when I went to Columbia with Tony and we more or less started a Cartel war, when I came home, he was… desperate. He had been worried about me, and when we saw each other again, those feelings…”

Rachel shifted in her seat, furrowing her brows.

“That made you uncomfortable?”

Ziva’s eyes widened and she quickly shook her head.

“No!” she exclaimed, frowning slightly at the other woman. “No, I… It didn’t. And it’s not that I worry about him because his previous reaction wasn’t one I… well, appreciate is the wrong word.” she shook her head. “I’ve been in this line of work for long enough to know that it is common to have such a reaction after being placed in immediate danger, I know that it’s common when people believe their loved ones to be hurt and find they are just fine.” Ziva went on, running a hand through her hair. “And I know that having sex, as passionate as it usually turns out then, it’s not a fix. It’s putting a band aid over a gushing wound that would need proper care, and I… am not sure how to provide that.”

The older woman leant back in her seat again, relaxing and trying to bite back a smile. Part of her itched to share this moment with the woman’s boss, but she knew she wouldn’t be able to. Still, it seemed like a huge step, for Ziva to not just realize that the immediate physical reactions to danger were often not a healthy way to cope with these things, but to actively try and work through them, even when it seemed like she was more interested in this for her fiancé’s sake than her own.

“Ziva, you were the one held at gunpoint. You should worry about yourself before you start thinking about other people’s feelings.”

“I am fine.” the Israeli shrugged, rolling her eyes when Cranston lifted her eyebrows. “And I mean it. It wasn’t a situation I haven’t been in before, and this time I had my team to protect me.” she added. “It’s strange, I never really thought about it like this. I thought Gibbs’ reasoning behind co-workers not dating was that seeing each other in danger would lead them to make rash decisions. But now I’m starting to wonder if he didn’t worry more about the aftermath of these situations, too. That just knowing that you could have lost them, what it might do to you…”

“Ziva?” Cranston gently prompted her when the NCIS agent trailed off, staring at the floor. The Israeli shook her head, attempting a soft smile. “If you want to stop-”

“No. I- I’ve lost so many people.” she changed her mind from another declaration of just how fine she was. “People I cared about, people I loved. And don’t want to give up my job, I love being an NCIS agent, I love being part of Gibbs’ team. Yet getting engaged, it, it changed my perspective. Before, I was making choices based on what was best for me, I didn’t think about anyone else. Now  some pathetic guy pulls a gun on me and I can’t stop thinking about what would happen to Tim if I died. What would happen to me if I lost him.” she breathed, reaching up to pinch the bridge of her nose and draw a shaky breath.

“Have you told Timothy that?”

Ziva looked up at the other woman like she had lost her mind.

“You want to deal with this healthily? Communication is the first step. Talk to him, tell him what you feel.”

The NCIS agent opened and closed her mouth, worrying her lip as she thought about that for a second, until the soft ‘ding’ coming from Cranston’s computer declared that their time for today was up.

“I would prefer it if you didn’t leave immediately.” the psychiatrist said as Ziva rose. “Take a few minutes to calm down. I have another appointment now, but you’re more than welcome to stay, and we can talk after this again if you need to.”

Ziva slowly shook her head.

“No, thank you.”

“Ziva-”

“You are right. And I’m not saying that to get you off my back. I’ll stay a few minutes, but I would prefer to go home. It was… a bit much.” she admitted, brushing her hair behind her ear. The older woman hesitated before nodding.

“Make sure you have my card before you leave.” she instructed Ziva when she let her out of her office, watching as the Israeli went down the hall slowly, pausing briefly before she came into view of the reception area to get herself together and square her shoulders.

* * *

Hours later, when she was lying in their bed, Ziva reached out and placed her hand on Tim’s bare chest. The light from the streetlamp pouring inside the window caught her engagement ring and she flexed her fingers, staring at her hand on his rising and falling chest, Tim’s heartbeat pulsing uner her fingers.

Her fiancé mumbled something in his sleep and grabbed her hand before he turned onto his side, turning his face into the pillow briefly. Ziva shook her head in amusement and scooted closer. She leaned in and pressed a soft kiss to his cheek.

“I love you.” she murmured, lying back down and entwining their fingers. Tim gave a soft sigh in his sleep, his body relaxing again.

They had talked for hours, though neither one of them had been able to resist the physical reassurance that came with touching each other and making sure that their partner was real, was alive and not going anywhere, at least not anytime soon. Which had ended with them stripping down to their underwear and cuddling in bed while talking.

Ziva had gotten the impression that Cranston had been right and she had needed to tell Tim that he wasn’t the only one worrying about losing each other at times. She’d never have thought that he hadn’t considered that she’d feel the same way about him, but then again it didn’t seem like he went into the field as much as she did, and she had never before admitted that these brushes with death did shake her, to the core at times.

Still neither of them wanted to quit their jobs, nor did they want the other one do to it. They knew the risks involved in their line of work, and both of them had made the conscious decision to still pursue a career at NCIS. The work they did, dangerous as it might be, it helped others and it gave people closure.

What they had thrown around, but not come to a final decision yet, was the possibility of one of them having to leave the MCRT for another team. It was getting to the point where neither one of them could ignore the impact their relationship had on their possible actions in the field, and they weren’t alone on the team, there was Gibbs and Tony, too, that had to be able to rely on them keeping a level head in a dangerous situation. Putting them in danger was out of the question for either one of them.


	18. 10x15 tag

“You okay with this?” McGee asked her as the director’s children ran off to the kitchen, giving the two agents a few seconds on their own. Ziva drew a deep breath before plastering a smile on her face.

“Of course. Why wouldn’t I be?” she asked, but her fiancé just watched her.

“Ziva.” Tim muttered her name, reaching out to touch her arm, but Ziva held up her hand to stop him.

“Don’t.” she shook her head, breaking their eye contact.

“Agent David?” Kayla came back into the living room and the Israeli quickly put the smile back on her face.

“Right behind you.” she nodded at the girl and followed her into the kitchen, keeping her eyes from straying into the corner of the living room. She found that the children had already set out four mugs and the milk, though they had refrained from putting it on the stove. Ziva filled a pot and put it on, gently stirring the milk so it wouldn’t start burning.

“Have you guys thought about what you want to have for dinner?” McGee asked them when he joined the three in the kitchen.

“We’ve been having a lot of take-out, since Mom…” Jared mumbled, causing the adults to exchange a glance.

“How about I cook?” Ziva volunteered, already walking over to the fridge to check the contents. She quickly took stock, going through the recipes she knew to look for something she could make with what they had and that the children would eat. She knew what picky eaters kids could be, and serving them traditional kosher food didn’t sound like something that would make them jump up and down with glee.

“Chicken and spaghetti, how does that sound?” she turned around to them and watched as the siblings exchanged a look before shrugging.

“Okay, I guess.” Jared nodded as McGee poured them their hot chocolate and the kids put the marshmallows into their mugs.

“Ah, no.” Ziva shook her head when Kayla went to get up. “This stays in the kitchen, with how messy it is.” she told the girl, and much to her surprise, the teenager didn’t offer any protest. After checking her watch, Ziva figured she might as well get started on making preparations for dinner. Jared whisked Tim away with the promise of a cool X-box game, but Kayla stayed, offering her help.

“You’re good at this.” Ziva told her when she watched the girl slice up tomatoes for the sauce she had in mind.

“Mom used to make me help her. I liked it, we spent time together like that.” the teenager trailed off, biting her lip. “Dad said your mother died, too.”

Ziva swallowed thickly before she nodded. “Yes. But that was a long time ago. And I was already an adult when it happened.” she told the girl, watching her. “But I, still miss her.” she admitted softly. Kayla nodded.

“It’s like, she’s just gone on a trip, or something. And I wake up sometimes and I forget that she’s gone, until I go downstairs, and she’s not there setting the table for breakfast.” Kayla looked up from the fruit and looked at Ziva.

“How do you…” she trailed off, biting her lip. The Israeli placed down her own knife as she shifted on her feet.

“You take one day at a time.” she slowly said, wondering if, after all she had done, if this was another one on a long list of mistakes. If the director found out she had talked to his daughter about her mother’s death, when her own father had been responsible for it… Still, she couldn’t leave her standing there like this, and if Kayla wanted to talk to her instead of her father… “It hurts, and I am not sure that it will ever stop. And you will never forget it, you just, learn to live with it. Some days are worse, others are better. And one day, you’ll be doing something, and suddenly you will remember her, and it will be a happy memory, one that doesn’t hurt but lets you remember the wonderful moments you got to share with each other.”

The young girl swallowed before she nodded, returning to slicing the tomatoes wordlessly. Ziva watched her briefly before she returned to preparing the meat, though she didn’t miss Kayla reaching up to wipe her eyes when she thought that Ziva was too busy to notice.

* * *

“Oh, no, no, take a right!” Jared yelled at McGee as they sat on the couch later, playing video games. Tim was playing against Kayla, some racing thing. Somehow, a harmless round of Jared showing it to McGee had resulted in him trying to instruct Ziva on how to play and then it had escalated into rounds of boys versus girls.

It was well past the children’s bedtime, but Ziva didn’t have the heart to tell them to stop and switch it off. The kids seemed to have fun and were laughing and joking, something they had apparently needed a lot. Though when the door to the house opened and Ziva looked up to see the director in the doorway, she felt her heart plummet.

“I know this looks bad.” she apologized after getting up and walking over to him, leaving Tim and the kids to the game. “It’s way past their bedtime-”

“No, it’s alright.” Vance shook his head, watching his children laugh. Kayla let out an excited squeal and threw up her arms the same moment Tim groaned in defeat and Jared buried his face in his hands. “They needed to have some fun.” the children’s father added before walking into the room and greeting his children with a kiss before telling them to go get themselves ready for bed. Tim excused himself and went to the kitchen to clean up there, leaving Ziva and their boss alone.

“Director, I…” she started, drawing a slow breath. “I know we have not spoken much, and I did not really know what to say. If my father hadn’t been here…” she trailed off, shaking her head. “I just wanted to say, how sorry I am.”

“You don’t need to say another word, Agent David.” Vance told her, blinking quickly as his eyes became watery. Ziva nodded and swallowed thickly, closing her eyes as the man went past her to check on his children.

“Hey.” Tim muttered as he returned, reaching up to squeeze her shoulder. Ziva turned around to face him, reaching up to wipe a tear away from her eye.

“You talk to Vance?” he asked her softly and she nodded, her bottom lip starting to tremble. Without another word, Tim reached out and pulled her into his arms. Ziva turned her face into his chest and took a few slow breaths.

“Come on, let’s get out of here.” her fiancé whispered and pulled her with him after receiving no protest from her. Truth be told, she was more than happy to leave the house where she had last seen her father alive and discovered his dead body.


	19. 10x16 tag

“It’s not here!” Ziva called from the office, straightening and putting her hands on her hips.

“What?” Tim’s voice carried from the living room and she rolled her eyes.

“Nothing.” the Israeli shook her head, pulling open the first drawer. That damn manual had to be in here somewhere. It had to be, Tim had been the last one with it. That’s why she hated getting new appliances, it took her half an eternity to memorize how to work them. And now the new dishwasher was spewing some error code with flashing lights and she was beyond done with the damn thing already.

The first drawer didn’t have the manual, and neither did the second, but she finally found it in the third. With an exclamation of triumph, she snatched it up, freezing when she saw the familiar blue envelope lying beneath it.

Ziva cast a glance behind her before frowning down at the envelope. There had to be a reason why he had hidden it here, where Tim could be pretty sure she wouldn’t just randomly stumble on it. And now she really, really wanted to know what was inside it.

She had seen a few of those over the years, though she had rarely asked Tim for tickets. It had felt like using him, even if they were friends and he assured her that it wasn’t a problem for him to ask his cousin. But she had still preferred to buy the tickets for the shows she wanted to see by herself, only resorting to his connections when they were way too expensive or already sold out.

Now though, since they had gotten together, she had seen a lot more of these envelopes, mostly for other agents at NCIS, though he had surprised her with them a few times, too.

With a quick shake of her head, Ziva slammed the drawer shut and went to return to the kitchen. She was halfway out the door when she paused and let out a growl before stalking back and retrieving the envelope, which she dropped off with Tim before retreating to the kitchen to finally get the dishwasher to submit to her wishes.

“Guess you found it.” Tim said when she straightened a few minutes later, the dishwasher letting out a purr before it started drawing water.

“I guess I did.” Ziva nodded, wiping her hands on the towel before she turned to him.

“Did you take a peek?” her fiancé asked her, his eyebrows going up when she shook her head.

“No, I didn’t. Though I wanted to.” she admitted, crossing her arms. Tim contemplated the envelope before holding it out to her.

“Go on.” he encouraged her and Ziva took the envelope from him, opening it and drawing a deep breath before she pulled out the tickets. Her eyes widened and she stared at him in shock.

“Tim…”

“It’s only like, two months until your citizenship anniversary.” he told her with a soft smile. “And since you refused on having it at the beginning of July, where I could have just said that the Independence Day picnic was your present, I had to come up with something else.”

Ziva shook her head in amusement. “The Alexandria Symphony Orchestra?” she asked with a tilt of her head. “Since when does your cousin get tickets for them?”

“Since I asked him if he could arrange it.” Tim shrugged. “And the eighteenth is technically a Saturday, so we might actually get a chance to go.”

At that, Ziva let out a soft laugh. “Let’s hope no one decides to die that day.” she nodded, reaching out to hug him and brush her lips over his. “Thank you, the tickets are wonderful.”

“If you don’t want to celebrate it, then that’s fine.” Tim assured her, suddenly worried that he had somehow managed to hurt her feelings. She had just lost her father, after all, so Ziva might not be in the mood to celebrate becoming an American citizen and severing her ties with Israel this year. But his fiancé shook her head.

“No, I want to.” she told him softly. “And I am really looking forward to it.” Ziva assured him with another smile before pulling him in for another kiss.


	20. 10x17 tag

“Wanna tell me where we are going?” Tim asked when Ziva stayed on the highway instead of entering Silver Springs.

“I believe the concept of surprises is that you get surprised.” she teased him, frowning at the driver in front of them before she decided to change lanes.

“So the drive wasn’t the surprise?” her fiancé prodded, causing Ziva to grin and shake her head.

“No.” she answered, setting the signal again and returning to their previous lane. Tim nodded and drummed his fingers against the door handle.

“Do I at least get a clue?” he asked after another mile, turning to face her just in time to see Ziva bite her lip in amusement. And people thought _she_ was bad when it came to surprises.

“Sand.”

“Sand?” Tim repeated, frowning. “That’s it, sand?”

“Sand.” Ziva nodded, almost laughing at his frustration when she took the next exit.

“You’re not going to the beach, are you? Because it’s way too cold for that.”

“It’s not a trip to the beach.” Ziva shook her head, navigating the streets with an ease that made Tim frown at her. It seemed like she was familiar with the way to wherever it was that she was taking him, enough so to know how to find it without technological assistance.

“Do I get another clue?” he tried after a few minutes. To his surprise, Ziva shook her head.

“Ziva-”

“We’re here.” she informed him as she pulled into a parking space. Tim looked around, searching for a sign and when his eyes landed on it, they widened.

“Virginia Spa and Resort?” he read, turning to his fiancée.

“Abby and I used to go here sometimes, to relax. They have a lovely pool area, one with actual sand, too. It’s warm and bright. Almost makes you feel like you’re on some tropical island. Until you step outside afterwards and the “Virgina in belated winter” weather hits you.” Ziva explained, watching him.

“Is this about the Bahamas?” Tim wondered. Ziva nodded.

“Yes. I saw how disappointed you were when Tony and Dorneget went together, and I thought…” she trailed off with a shrug. Tim pursed his lips before reaching to unbuckle his seatbelt and get out of the car. Ziva followed his example, walking around it to the trunk where she had put their gym bags earlier that morning.

“If you don’t want to go-” she started, but Tim’s lips on hers interrupted her.

“Thanks.” he murmured against her lips before he leaned back and opened the trunk of the car. “Besides, I’d be crazy to pass up an opportunity to see you in a bikini.” he joked, earning himself a slap on the arm, though Ziva was smiling when she hooked her arm through his as they went to the front desk to get a locker.

* * *

Tim took a deep breath before throwing his arms forward and pushing himself off the side of the pool, diving into the water. He took a moment to get his bearings as he opened his eyes under water, blinking twice before he started swimming in the direction of the end of the pool he had seen Ziva at. He was just about to reach out and grab her hips when the ache in his lungs reminded him he needed oxygen. Frustrated, his planted his feet on the bottom of the pool and propelled himself up, at least succeeding to splash his fiancée when he reached the surface, inhaling greedily.

“Timothy!” Ziva exclaimed, shoving water at him, but there was laughter in her voice and she didn’t fight him when he grabbed her, pulling her against him for a kiss.

“You taste like chlorine.” the Israeli wrinkled her nose, running her hand over his face and wiping a few drops of water away.

“Better than salt water, no?” he teased her, making Ziva tilt her head.

“Not really, no.” she responded but still leaned in for another kiss, her arms wrapping around his neck. Tim was only able to bounce off the floor of the pool with his toes when he had his head above water, meaning Ziva wasn’t able to stand at all, at least not this far into the pool. Not that she was complaining, and Tim wasn’t about to, either. It was nice, having her wrapped up around him like this.

“This is nice.” he told her, his hands disappearing below the line of water to run over the skin at her side, skimming over the bottom of her bikini. Ziva raised an eyebrow at him.

“It is.” she agreed, brushing her nose against his. “Though I think we might be attracting a few too many glances.” she whispered into his ear, giving a subtle nod in the direction of a group of mothers with their children, who all seemed like they had just started school.

“Let them look. We’re not doing anything. I’m just enjoying a few hours off with my gorgeous fiancée.”

“Who would like to be able to return to this facility in the future. She’s rather fond of their massages.” Ziva giggled when he gave a tug at bow at her back that kept the neck holder top of her bikini in place.

“I have rather skilled hands myself.” Tim told her, raising an eyebrow when Ziva gave him a look.

“Oh, I know you do.” she responded, running her hands through his hair. “Though I have to admit, I would not say no to another demonstration, tonight perhaps?”

Instead of answering, Tim just leaned in for another kiss.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, so I did some math and I _think_ that there will be 31 chapters to this overall. If I manage to write tags to the remaining episodes of this season, that is. I am done with the ones up to and including _Berlin_ , even though I am not happy with that one especially.


	21. filler up to 10x18

Throwing down her gym bag on the bed, Ziva took off her jacket and placed it on the covers. She went over to the windows and cast a glance down at the parking lot before pulling down the blinds. Back to the bed she went and took out a bottle of water and her old laptop and charger, looking for an outlet close to the bed. The last thing she retrieved was her gun and badge. The badge went into the pocket of her jeans and the gun onto the bed, where it was in her reach.

Booting up the laptop, she pulled out her secondary cell phone. Her actual phone was in her locker at the gym. Driving there and putting it in had cost her ten minutes, but she couldn’t risk switching it off any more than she could taking it with her. Her car was also sitting in the gym parking lot, to further her cover if one of her team went to check on her they would find it in her usual spot.

Part of her felt guilty about all this secrecy and the white lies she was telling Tim. But she knew that he wouldn’t understand if she tried to explain, and if he found out what she was doing behind his back, he would go straight to Gibbs, or worse, he’d take it to Vance right away, and having the NCIS director know how she was plotting her revenge for her father’s death and that of Jackie Vance would not get her a raise, of that much Ziva was sure.

Tim knew she still had her old laptop, and he knew the password for her current one, at least for the safe account on it. She still had a few documents on the one she was using at home that required a different account, one to which only she knew the password, but Ziva had seen him work for years. If Tim wanted to get into her computer, he would find a way, no measures she would take could keep him out for long if he set his mind to it. Which was why she had resurrected her old laptop and kept it in her gym bag now. Why she had acquired an usb stick that allowed her mobile access to the internet, the bills for which went to a post office box she emptied out every other week and of which she had made sure not to leave any trace at the apartment.

With a sigh, Ziva shook her head and opened the browser, checking her email. She still had friends all over the world, friends that had previously been secret agents and Black Ops members, most of which had quit their previous agencies and were now in the private sector, for hire to anyone who could pay their steep prices. Friends who owed her debts, in some instances, or where owed by her. Which had turned out to be irrelevant in a lot of cases. As it turned out, while most of the people she stilled called friends did not have any love for her father, Ziva had found that they possessed even less positive feelings towards one Ilan Bodnar.

The first ten messages all said the same thing: that Bodnar was on the move, travelling under different names, with passports of at least three different countries. Which wasn’t all that surprising to her, she knew he had resources, as a former Mossad operative he had to have a couple of spare passports.

There was one with blurry pictures of a surveillance camera that must have been hacked for another mission but ended up capturing a man that had a striking resemblance to Bodnar. At least Ziva thought he had, with what she could make out of his pixelated face. It wasn’t like she could just ask Abby to enhance the picture, either, or go to Tim, so her own rudimentary skills had to be enough, at least for the time being. Until she could figure out which operatives at the Israeli embassy she could trust, which ones would join her on her search for revenge and not turn her over to her own director.

Then there was one with credit card bills. She had asked about them, wondering if Bodnar would be stupid enough to leave a paper trail. But in this day and age, a lot had not to do with stupidity, but with actual limitations. The times when you could pay in cash for plane tickets without raising a few eyebrows had mostly passed, and the same was true for upscale hotels as well as car rentals. If there was one thing a man on the run didn’t want to do, it was drawing attention to himself. Bodnar would do everything to blend in, to not stick out, and that meant being able to use credit cards when it would be convenient for normal people with nothing to hide.

Ziva frowned at the numbers and names. She’d heard some before, apparently they were left over from previous missions with Mossad. Others held the names of the aliases he was now using.

The final email made her heart beat a little faster when she saw the sender. She swallowed thickly before she moved her fingers over the trackpad to open it, holding her breath for a second. Inside was just a string of numbers and despite herself, Ziva felt her lips curve into a soft smile as she rummaged around her gym bag for her notepad and began to scribble down the code. Half an hour later, she was staring a message from Malachi, short and to the point. Liat had no idea that he had contacted her, but he was worried. He had heard whisperings, of some of their mutual acquaintances, and implored her not to do anything stupid. At least not half a world away.

Ziva got the words between the lines. Malachi must have made his own enquiries and their friends had thought they were in on this together and told him they had been providing her own information. Ziva made a mental note to remind certain people about keeping their mouths shut. Though, if he was willing to keep his current partner in the dark about what he was doing…

Biting her lip, Ziva reached for her cell, dialing a number she hadn’t used in years but still remembered perfectly well. As it rang, she held her breath, until a familiar voice came on.

“Shalom, Malachi.” she greeted him.


	22. 10x18 tag

Tim took a slow breath, reaching out to ruffle Jethro’s fur. The German Shepherd tilted his head at his owner before getting up and walking to the kitchen to find something to eat.

“You’ve been quiet.” Ziva observed when she looked up from the book she’d been reading. Though admittedly, she hadn’t been paying that much attention to the words and would have to go through that chapter again, anyway.

“Yeah.” Tim nodded, furrowing his brows at the kitchen doorway. “You think Jethro’s been strange lately?” he asked her, causing Ziva to close her book.

“What do you mean?” she asked as she sat up, straightening. Tim shrugged, reaching up to wipe a hand over his face.

“I don’t know. I mean, I know he’s getting old. Really old. But I didn’t really realize it, until we moved, I guess. It’s like… I don’t know. All he seems to do is just eat and sleep now. He’s not interested in his toys or going for walks, and…” he trailed off, blinking quickly. Ziva put her book away and scooted closer to him on the couch, wrapping an arm around his shoulder.

“Maybe he has been behaving differently. I just thought it was the move, that he’d have to get used to it.” she allowed, running her hand through his hair in a soothing caress. Tim was right, something about the dog had been off lately. The way he was either constantly following one of them around, begging for attention and affection, or completely ignoring them. She had noticed that he didn’t seem to enjoy their runs as much and not taken him on as many, especially once she had started running with Ducky from time to time, knowing that the old man needed a different pace than what a German Shepherd could follow.

“I’ve been thinking, maybe… if he had a friend… someone with more energy…” Tim muttered, frowning at himself the same time Ziva did.

“You want to get Jethro a puppy?” she asked, leaning back to stare at him like he’d gone crazy. Tim shook his head quickly.

“No!” he exclaimed. “No, not a puppy. Hell, with our jobs, a puppy would be a nightmare.” he agreed and Ziva breathed a sigh of relief.

“No, after seeing Dex… Maybe we could adopt a police dog? Another retired one, you know. When the previous owners don’t want to keep them, or can’t, for whatever reasons.”

Ziva took a slow breath, buying herself time when she got up and grabbed her empty glass of the table to go fill it up again. Tim followed her to the kitchen and waited by the door as she took a sip of her water.

“You know that, as much as I love Jethro, I am not the biggest fan of dogs.” she finally settled on something to say and watched as Tim’s face fell.

“You don’t want another dog.” he realized, crossing his arms. Ziva sighed, shaking her head.

“I am not saying that. Not exactly.” she told him, running a hand through her hair and looking over at Jethro pushing around his food in his bowl. “But we know what kind of dogs become service dogs. More specifically, we know their size. Neither Jethro nor Dex were small, do you really want two of these in this apartment?” she asked, shaking her head.

“I know it’s a lot-”

“I know you want to help him.” Ziva interrupted her fiancé, nodding towards the German Shepherd. “And I do, too. But I don’t think another dog will do any good. On the contrary, what if he feels threatened in his position in the family?” she protested. “Isn’t that what happens with dogs, when you bring in another new one? That they have to fight out their position in the pack? Do you really want to do that to him?”

Tim shook his head, looking away. “I guess I wasn’t really thinking.” he mumbled, crouching down when Jethro trotted over to him to hug the dog. Ziva deflated as she watched the two interact.

“Fine.” she accepted suddenly, making Tim look up sharply at her. “I guess it wouldn’t hurt to, look into it a bit.” she relented, but raised a finger when her fiancé grinned at her. “I am going to say no to another one of his size, though.” she reminded him, telling herself that she was definitely going to put her foot down, even if she found another pair of those damn puppy eyes staring at her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Since the season finale has aired and there are no new episodes to ruin my canon, I will try to post a chapter every three days now. Feel free to drop me a reminder on LJ, DW or tumblr in case I forget.


	23. Chapter 23

Ziva set down her backpack and went down the hallway to the living room. As soon as she entered, Jethro came over to her, getting his greeting affections. When Ziva sat down and waited for Allie to come over, Jethro planted his rear next to her, watching her interactions with the other dog closely and emitting a low growl as Ziva reached for Allie when the Golden Lab had already ducked away from her to bounce away to the kitchen.

Allie had been a service dog with Metro PD until she had been shot during an arrest. The bullet hadn’t done that much damage and the dog had healed completely. Physically, at least. It turned out that getting injured had triggered a whole lot of anxiety issues and fear in the gorgeous Golden Lab and had rendered her incapable of working with the police any longer. With Metro unable to take care of her and her old owner refusing to continue to care for a dog that was so scared she bit her twice, they had been forced to put Allie in the pound, where she had more or less just been waiting to be put down, after no one was willing to tackle the series of issues that came with the dog.

Ziva did remember that she had said she didn’t want another dog the size of Jethro in the apartment, but Allie was actually small for her breed. And honestly, the second the Israeli had looked at the cowering creature, she had felt her heart melt. What was even more, Allie had attached straight to Ziva. Not Tim, who knew how to get a dog to listen much better than she did, but to Ziva. Perhaps it had been because Allie had been searching for someone with confidence, someone she could trust to protect her. Whenever they went to the park, the four of them together, Allie chose to cover behind Ziva when something spooked her and she wanted reassurance.

The one thing Allie didn’t have any issues with were other dogs, and Jethro had taken to their new addition immediately, going as far as feeling like he had to protect the younger dog. Him growling in warning at others wasn’t that uncommon.

“Okay, I get it.” she told the German Shepherd and ruffled his fur again before getting up and following Allie to the kitchen to check on the bowls of the dogs and fill them up with food and water.

She watched as Allie and Jethro ate their fill, contemplating the Golden Lab. By now, they’d been going to the park for long enough that it was familiar ground for her, and Ziva knew that exercise had been a regular thing for Allie before her injury. The ocean was still far too cold for a trip to the beach, and Ziva wasn’t sure if Allie even liked water that much, despite her breed. But perhaps the dog would enjoy a short jog at the park?

“Allie.” Ziva called to her and the Golden Lab perked up, watching her intently and wagging her tail. Ziva went down the hallway with Allie trotting after her, giving an excited bark when she saw Ziva grab her leash. That changed when the dog realized that Jethro wasn’t going to come with them. It was fine until Ziva closed the door behind them and started down the hallway, at which point Allie dug her heels in and slid across the tiles.

“Come here.” Ziva called her, crouching down and waiting. Allie eyed her wearily before turning around and trying to get back to the apartment. Ziva watched her until the dog started barking, increasing her volume when she heard Jethro answer. With a sigh, Ziva went back and let her into the apartment again, getting out her cell phone in the process.

“Hi, Ziva. Changed your mind about Girl’s Night?” Abby’s happy voice greeted her and Ziva couldn’t help but smile.

“Yes, but not in the way you might think.” she answered. “Tim is spending the evening with Adam, something about a video game night, and I was wondering… I want to try something with Allie, and it seems like she’s unwilling to go anywhere without Jethro, so…”

“What do you want to try?” the Forensic Scientist asked carefully and Ziva rolled her eyes. She wasn’t going to take one of Allie’s fears and decide to randomly throw the dog in a situation where she’d have to confront it. She knew Allie was afraid of escalators, so she didn’t take her to the mall, and she wouldn’t dream of forcing the dog into a situation with it. She knew perfectly well what being exposed to triggers could do to a person, and if Allie’s panic attacks felt anything like her own, well, Ziva didn’t want to cause her one.

“I was thinking she might enjoy going for a run, but I haven’t had time to test it yet. Could you come to the park with us? I’m not confident enough to take them both, Jethro and Allie, and-”

“Sure, I’ll be there in twenty.” Abby exclaimed excitedly before promptly hanging up, leaving Ziva with the dial tone.

* * *

“So, you have no idea how she’s going to react?” Abby asked carefully as they made their rounds through the park, Ziva already dressed in her running gear. The Israeli shook her head.

“No. I mean, we know she must have worked out before her injury, but apparently no one has tried it since.” she shrugged, tightening her hold on the leash when she saw a man on a bike approach them. Allie went straight to her side, whining loudly until Ziva stopped and bent down to pet her until the bike had passed them.

“She is doing much better.” Abby remarked, having seen the panic Allie had used to be in just a few weeks ago when confronted with a bike.

“She is.” Ziva nodded, smiling at the dog and hugging her. “Okay, let’s do this.” she decided, putting the leash around herself.

“Do you want me to follow you two? Because I can’t run in these.” Abby motioned to her platform heels, but Ziva shook her head.

“No, she needs to get used to being out of the apartment without Jethro, too. I will stay close so she can see you two, though.” the Israeli said, getting up.

“Come, Allie.” she called the dog, waiting until she had her attention before she started walking faster and then broke into a slow jog. Allie followed her willingly, casting a glance back at Abby and Jethro, who kept on walking, though the Forensic Scientist could feel Jethro tugging on the leash, even though she wasn’t sure if he wanted to run himself or if it was him trying to protect the other dog again. Ziva didn’t so much as glance at them but went on, making a circle around them. When she passed Abby, she gave her a thumbs-up and picked up the pace a little, making the circle wide now that she was confident that Allie wasn’t going to go into a frenzy. Soon enough, Abby only saw them every ten minutes, when Ziva passed her on another round, Allie bounding after her and barking excitedly when the Israeli was done and came to a stop on another round. Ziva leaned over, putting her hands on her thighs and taking deep breaths while Allie tugged on the leash, trying to get her going again.

“We’re,” Ziva heaved between breaths, “done.” she told the dog, straightening and accepting the bottle of water Abby had been holding the whole time.

“Looks like she had fun.” the Forensic Scientist remarked.

“Yeah.” Ziva nodded, drawing another breath as they started to slowly walk back to their cars, Jethro and Allie fighting over the toy rope Abby had been throwing to keep Jethro busy while Ziva jogged around the park with Allie.

“Do you want to come up?” she asked the black-haired woman when they were back at their apartment. “We could make dinner and watch a movie.” Ziva suggested, watching as Abby hesitated before she nodded. “Though perhaps I will hit the shower first.” she decided when they were upstairs.

“Want me to get anything started?” Abby asked her, but Ziva shook her head and told her to just make herself comfortable before she disappeared into the bathroom. When she came back fifteen minutes later, Abby was browsing through one of Tim’s magazines, skimming the pages.

“One day, you have to explain all the techno-babble in one of these to me.” she told her, making Abby glance up briefly.

“Oh, they’re not that exciting.” she shrugged. At Ziva’s raised eyebrow, she went on to explain. “I mean, it’s pretty cool stuff in it, but it’s civilian stuff. You should read one of the Forensic Science journals. Now these are really interesting.”

Ziva held up her hands with a chuckle.

“I doubt that I would even understand one word.” she laughed, perking up when Allie came trotting over, one of her chewing toys in her mouth. She went over to Abby, sitting down in front of the woman.

“Erm…” Abby glanced at Ziva before looking at the dog.

“Allie, release.” the Israeli commanded, and sure enough, Allie dropped the toy. “She wants you to hide it so she can search for it.” she explained.

“Like fetch?”

“Not exactly.” Ziva shook her head, getting the toy and disappearing with it. When she came back, her hands were empty. “Allie, search.” she commanded, pointing down the hallway, and the Golden Lab went bouncing over the hardwood floor. Abby got up and watched as Allie sniffed around in every corner until she found her toy in the shoe rack, biting on it and making it squeak repeatedly.

“Good girl.” Ziva praised her, cuddling the dog. “You’re a good girl, yes you are.” she smiled, allowing Allie to lick her face before the dog picked up the toy again and placed it in front of Abby.

“So how does this work?”

“You take it and hide it somewhere where she can reach in another room, then tell her to search.” Ziva explained. “It’s her favorite game. When you don’t want to play any more, just ignore the toy.”

Just as Ziva was done peeling the potatoes, Abby joined her in the kitchen, grabbing a pot and filling it with water.

“So, how’s life been treating you?” she asked Ziva, causing the Israeli to shrug.

“Pretty good.” she answered, starting on the salmon. She felt Abby’s eyes on her but chose to ignore the other woman.

“You know, if you don’t wanna talk to me, it’s fine.” Abby suddenly said. Ziva looked up and not even a second after that, felt the burn of the cut. She hissed in pain and pulled her hand back, a curse falling from her lips.

“Oh shoot.” her friend muttered, already pulling off paper towels and handing them to Ziva, who was biting her lip to keep herself from screaming as her eyes filled with tears. Oh damn, that had really, really hurt. She pressed the paper towels against her hand and let Abby steer her to the chairs.

“Let me have a look.” the Forensic scientist muttered, carefully pulling back the towels but pressed them back just as fast. “I, I think that-”

“Needs stitches, yeah.” Ziva nodded, gazing at the drenched material. “Can you hand me the dish towel?” she asked her friend, motioning towards it on the rack. When she switched out the paper towels, she felt her stomach turn at sight of the cut in her palm. Great. Just great. Gibbs was going to kill her, even if it was just her left hand, she wouldn’t be allowed in the field for possibly weeks.

“Come on, I’ll drive you.” Abby said and got up, pulling Ziva with her.

“The salmon.” the Israeli shook her head when Abby went to pull her out the door. The black-haired woman rolled her eyes.

“I don’t think we will eat that.”

“We might not, but Jethro and Allie will try.” Ziva pointed out. Abby nodded, disappearing into the kitchen to put the fish away before she helped Ziva into her jacket and they left the apartment, both of them cursing in their heads.

* * *

If there was something that was even worse than cooking with her when it came to avoiding Abby’s questions, it was having to sit an ER with the Forensic Scientist, and having practically nothing to do, aside from waiting for a doctor to come look at the cut, declare it to be in need of stitches and then to wait for another to actually put those in.

“I’m sorry.” Abby softly said after Ziva had winced herself through the exam to make sure she had not damaged any nerves when she had sliced into her palm.

“For what?” the Israeli asked her as she watched the doctor give instructions to the nurse before he glanced at his pager and hurriedly left the room.

“Distracting you.” the other woman shrugged. “I didn’t think you’d look up, I should have waited-”

“Abby.” Ziva interrupted her quickly, after years of working with her, she was more than familiar with the signs of an impending Abby rant. “My stupidity is not your fault.” she told her friend. “I miscalculated the sharpness of the knife, there is no one else to blame but me.”

“If I hadn’t said what I did-”

“You were right.” Ziva admitted, deciding that she might as well try to throw Abby of her game a little. The other woman was getting dangerously close to figuring something out, something she had taken great care of hiding from Timothy (and thinking about that made her gut churn), having Abby put two and two together would be... Ziva didn’t even want to consider what might happen in that case. “But it’s not that I don’t want to spend time with you, it’s just…” she trailed of, taking a slow breath.

“It’s just, what?” Abby pressed, watching her intently.

“One day, when I came down to the lab, I saw you going through this website, and it had ideas for a Hen’s Night, and… after my father death, I did not want to… I’m not ready, to, do this.” Ziva muttered, reaching up to subtly wipe a tear from the corner of her eye. It was part of the truth, at least, so she wasn’t completely lying to her, though she did feel bad about saying this when Abby stared at her with so much compassion and tears brimming in her green eyes. “I am not ready to plan a wedding, to think about having fun, and picking invitations, and a theme, and talking about flower arrangements. I- I’m not ready.”

Abby gave a soft sniffle before crossing the room and pulling Ziva into a hug that left the other woman breathless.

“You could have said something. I totally understand, I wouldn’t have brought it up-”

“I didn’t want to admit it to myself.” Ziva shook her head when Abby leaned back in confusion. “This wedding, I was looking forward to it. I still am, but now thinking about it, it also makes me sad. And I guess I did not want to taint it with these thoughts.” she shrugged, giving her friend a shy look.

Abby shook her head wordlessly before attempting to crush her ribcage again. When she finally let her go, Ziva took a slow breath.

“I promise I won’t bring up anything relating to the wedding unless you do. Okay?” she offered and Ziva nodded, finding herself smile softly at the determination on Abby’s face.

“Okay.” she agreed, glad to be spared from another hug by the arrival of an Intern who declared that he’d be putting in her stitches before Abby sent him running again, with the request to find someone who was older and hadn’t just completed pre-school.


	24. Chapter 24

If anyone had ever told her before this week that one day, she’d be glad about the kind of death her father had had, Ziva would have probably shot them right between the eyes.

As it was, she was now watching Tim sit on the floor, Allie’s face in his lap as he stroked the dog’s fur, staring off into space. He’d been like that when she had come back from the doctor to get her stitches removed. Jethro had been lying next to his master too, until a few minutes ago when the dog had retreated to the kitchen to rattle with their food bowls, directing Ziva’s attention to the fact that Tim had forgotten to fed the dogs. It had made her believe that, once he returned home without her almost three hours before she had come back from the doctor, he had just sat down on the floor and not moved an inch.

The Israeli took a slow breath and pushed herself away from the doorjamb, slowly making her way over to her fiancé. She hesitated briefly before sitting down next to him. Allie raised her head and let out a soft whine before putting it back down, casting a glance at Tim. Who stared at the dog before he blinked slowly and resumed his ministrations. Ziva reached out and took his hand, giving it a hard squeeze.

“I am sorry.” she whispered into the silence of the apartment, watching as his face moved with emotion. “Has he talked to Sarah yet?” she asked after a while, when Tim remained silent and refused to look at her. The man slowly shook his head and Ziva saw his throat work when he swallowed thickly.

She took a deep breath, opening her mouth to speak, but found that she had no idea what to say. She was bad at comforting others, always had been and would probably always be. Even when she’d been younger, she’d never known what to do when Tali had cried or been upset, for whatever reason, and now her fiancé had turned into a walking zombie and she had no idea what to do to fix it. Then again, there was no fixing it. His father was sick, Admiral John McGee was going to die, and there was nothing that could be done about it. All they could do was make the most of the time they had left, what little probably remained of it. But at the same time, Ziva didn’t want to say that out loud, on the chance that Tim had no interest to forgive his father or get closer to him.

Perhaps she should have called Cranston and asked her for advice. She wanted to help Tim, wanted to give him whatever he needed, but right now, she had no idea what that might be. It had been why she hadn’t spoken up earlier and tried to talk to him when she’d first gotten home. Maybe he wanted to be alone, maybe he didn’t want her around, or perhaps he wanted her to hug him and tell him she’d never let him go. Then again, he hadn’t given her a reason to believe that he was aware of her being in the apartment, though he hadn’t jumped when she’d started talking, either.

“I have been thinking.” she finally muttered, after clearing her throat. Ziva blinked quickly, feeling the tears starting to well up in her eyes. “And it’s over 130 days until August. Long enough to plan a proper wedding, especially if we enlist the help of the others. I mean, Abby’s been brimming with ideas the whole time. And we could ask Jimmy and Breena about stuff, addresses and tips and shortcuts and- How does August 10, 2013 sound?”

Tim blinked, turning his head to stare at her.

“That’s when Gibbs told us about the Damocles. That’s when, when we were told you had died.”

“I know.” Ziva nodded, giving his hand another squeeze. “And if you don’t think it’s appropriate or don’t like the date for any other reason, that’s fine. Plenty of other days to choose from. I just thought-”

Tim suddenly moved, leaning in and kissing her. Ziva felt his hand go to the back of her head, pulling her in and she let go of his hand, her own reaching up to bury in his hair as she returned the kiss.

“August 10, 2013.” Tim murmured against her lips between kisses. “Let’s do this.”


	25. Chapter 25

Ziva watched as Tim tried to get Allie to stop fidgeting so he could try to put the harness on her. Walking her had proven rather trying the past few days and they were hoping that a harness would reduce the strain put on the dog’s neck whenever she decided to try to chase of in any direction. The more familiar she got with the park, the more she wanted to explore, and now her relatively young age came fully into play. Though Ziva had to give her a lot of credit, one command and Allie returned to her poster behavior right next to whoever was walking her at the moment. Only that it usually didn’t last all that long these days.

It wasn’t Allie’s current behavior that made her worry her lip, though. Ziva had been trying to find a way to say it for the better part of two days. Truth be told, she had reached the point where she was terrified. Terrified that Tim could find out what she had been doing behind his back, and terrified of his reaction once he did find out. So she had figured that she should tell him. After all, she felt horrible about having lied to him in the first place, of not confiding in him sooner, and now she feared that it was already too late, that she had waited too long.

“I need your help.” she decided finally, making Tim glance at her briefly, though he let go of Allie immediately when he saw his fiancée’s face.

“With what?” he asked her carefully, leaning back on the couch. Ziva stood, crossing her arms as she paced the room, trying to find the right words. Well, sugar-coating it would probably not really work, given what she was about to ask him, so she might as well just tell the truth straight-forward.

“For the past few weeks, when I said I was going to the gym, I… first I went to a hotel room. When that became too suspicious, I rented a small apartment.”

“You rented a small apartment?” Tim repeated, staring at her as if she had just grown a second head.

“I was trying to- I needed a place where I could- I tried to find Bodnar.” she finally got out, waiting for his reaction. But Tim merely continue to blink at her, so Ziva took a deep breath and then everything just bubbled up and before she knew it, she was ranting and telling him what she had been doing the past weeks, without his knowledge. She explained how she hadn’t wanted to hurt his feelings, but they were federal agents. If he knew what she was doing, he would have had to report her to Vance, since what she had been doing was definitely more than just bordering on illegal. It wasn’t that she didn’t trust him, but she knew he wanted to protect her, and she had wanted to protect his career, his position at NCIS-

“How far did you get?” Tim finally asked, interrupting her. Now it was Ziva who blinked at him in surprise, her mouth still open before she shook her head.

“Not very far.” she admitted. “I contacted some of my old sources, I even had a conversation with Malachi, but he didn’t know anything I hadn’t already gotten from other sources.”

“You need a hacker.” her fiancé realized, getting up from the couch himself. The Israeli swallowed as she nodded.

“Yes.” she confirmed. “But that’s not why I told you.”

“Yeah, why did you then?” he asked, his tone biting.

Ziva cursed herself as she felt the tears welling up in her eyes. “I…” she stammered, trying to find the words. “I, love you.” she breathed, watching him as her heart fell. “And I never wanted to lie to you, I just… He killed my father, Tim. And then he tried to come after me. He knew what to say to get me to trust him, and I did. Bodnar fooled me, he- _he killed my father_.” she repeated, clenching her fists.

Tim shook his head, staring down at the floor as he reached up to rub his neck.

“I didn’t need to tell you.” Ziva went on. “I could have found someone else. _But I trust you, Tim_. I know I should have come to you from the start, I know that. But I also knew that if I had, you would have tried to talk me out of it, and you might have actually managed to. But this, going after Bodnar, it’s something that I _need to do_. And I am terrified, of what this will do, to me, to you, to _us_. Because now that you know, there are two ways this will go. Either you go to Vance or Gibbs and tell them what I have been doing, which would be bad, for me and my position at NCIS. Or, and I think this is even more terrifying, you don’t tell anyone, but do this with me. You help me figure out where he is and you will do it knowing fully well what will happen once I find out Bodnar’s whereabouts. And I guess, I guess that this is what I have been afraid of, all along.” she said, reaching up to wipe a tear from her face. “That being with me, that entering a relationship with me, that _I_ would, _corrupt_ you. And I never ever wanted to do that, Timothy.”

She closed her eyes to keep the tears at bay, but still heard him move, and then his arms were around her, his hand reaching up and his fingers treading through her hair as he cradled her head against his chest, hugging her to him as Ziva clutched at his shirt.

“I’m sorry. I’m so sorry, I-”

“It’s okay.” Tim murmured against her forehead, pressing a soft kiss to her skin as he held her, wondering what on Earth he was supposed to do now.


	26. 10x20 tag

“Tony’s been nosing around.” Tim said, frowning at a print-out before he pinned it up to the wall. Ziva looked up from the pictures she was looking through, giving him a confused look.

“I caught him going through your desk this morning.” her fiancé told her, causing the Israeli to sigh.

“Well, we knew it would happen eventually.” she softly said, standing and walking over to the map.

“Guess he’s just showing some restraint ‘cause we’re together. He might figure that I’d notice something off about you first.” Tim muttered darkly. Ziva cast a short glance at him, wondering if she should say something, apologize again. She had been surprised when he had decided to help her, instead of dragging her to Gibbs. Tim had liked navigating the gray areas with his hacking, but what they were doing now; it was not situated in that gray area. What they were doing was illegal, and it worried her. The impact it was having on him and their careers once they got found out. There was no if in that, either, Ziva was well aware of that, too.

“I am sorry.” she softly offered, feeling like an idiot for repeating the same words again and again. And she was sorry, not for trying to find Bodnar, but for lying to him, and for dragging him into this mess with her.

“I know.” McGee sighed. He cast a glance around the room before fishing out his cell phone. “You hungry, too?” he asked her, making Ziva’s lips twitch slightly before she inclined her head, listening to him order them some takeout dinner. She was starting to get tired of Thai food, but there were no other places in the area that delivered to this neighborhood. And she couldn’t blame them. When she had rented the apartment, she had been looking for something away from people that might recognize her. A place where the neighbors would pay her no mind and leave her to her own things, where she wouldn’t have to worry about anyone taking note of her coming in and leaving.

While waiting for their food to arrive, Ziva sat down at the desk again, while Tim disappeared in the direction of the bedroom to find them something to drink. Shortly after he went, there was a knock on the door, causing Ziva to look up sharply. They had just called for the food five minutes ago, there was no way this was already the delivery guy. The Israeli grabbed her gun and went to open the door, her heart dropping when she saw Tony standing on the other side.

Before she could ask him what he was doing here, he gave her a look, pushing at the door, and she took a step aside to let him in.

“I wanna help you.” her co-worker declared. When he opened his mouth again, Tim’s voice sounded from the bedroom, making Ziva close her eyes briefly.

“Wow.” Tony muttered, his eyes going back and forth between the couple. “And here I was worrying about sneaking around McOblivious’s back.”

“What are you doing here, Tony?” Tim asked him, exchanging a look with Ziva.

“I could ask you two the same thing.” their friend pointed out.

“Now that the kidnapping case is over, we were going to tell you. Ziva was just, waiting for the right time.”

DiNozzo set his jaw, glancing at the Israeli, who couldn’t help but flash back to when he had last gone snooping around after her, and how that had ended for all of them.

“Things got, out of hand. One phone call let to another, and then-”

“Next thing you know, we’re holed up in this place, obsessing about where to go next.” Tim finished for her, causing her to flinch at his choice of words. Obsessing. Well, but it was the truth, wasn’t it? She had been obsessed with finding answers, finding Bodnar, and now she hadn’t just managed to drag Tim into this chaos with her, no, now Tony knew what they had been doing, too.

Ziva crossed her arms, waiting for her friend’s reaction, as the senior field agent cast a look around the apartment.

“Well, I like what you two have done with this place.” he declared after a moment. “It’s not a nice as your other apartment, granted, kinda missing the warmth of that. But hey, you got matching computers, that’s a cute touch.”

“It’s not funny!” Ziva interrupted him, her nerves showing. “This is serious.”

“I am well aware of that, Zee-vah.” Tony pressed out between his teeth. “You two are tracking a CIA target, and you’re using NCIS resources to do so.”

“No.” Tim quickly shook his head. “No, this is all off the books.”

“Great, that only makes it ten times worse!” Tony exclaimed, drawing a slow breath. “Nice way to lose your jobs, guys. It’s only a matter of time before word gets out that you’re tracking him internationally, if it hasn’t already.”

“Are you trying to threaten us?” Ziva asked, narrowing her eyes at the man.

“We’re not tracking him.” Tim stepped in. “Not technically.” he added, casting a look at Ziva.

“I have friends, all over the world, monitoring bank accounts and things…”

“Shmeil’s putting in some over-time for you, huh?” Tony asked, raising an eyebrow.

“Shmeil is one of my contacts, yes.” Ziva confirmed, straightening. “But that is not what matters.” she added and took a deep breath before walking Tony through the information that they had already managed to gather so far.

“We think he has exhausted all his fail-saves and is now hiding out somewhere in Western Europe.” Tim concluded.

Tony nodded slowly.

“Only one problem.” he reminded them. “You say your last sightings where when, a week ago? What if the CIA already got to him? What if he’s already in custody? Or dead?”

“Bodnar is not dead.” Ziva shook her head, her eyes gleaming. “He is alive, out there somewhere. And I will not stop until I find him.”

Tim swallowed thickly, exchanging a pleading look with his friend.

“So, when do you plan on telling Gibbs?” the older man asked them, and Tim knew Ziva got the message just as he did. If they were not going to come clean about what they had been doing soon, Tony would do the job for them, and then they wouldn’t be able to hope for a bit of lenience since they had admitted to what they had been doing themselves.

Oh shoot.


	27. 10x21 tag

Tony woke with a start, looking around in the hotel room before he saw Ziva sit on the couch, her legs drawn up almost to her chest. He slowly lay back in the bed and reached up to rub a hand over his face.

“What time is it?” he asked her, frowning at himself.

“Local or East Coast?” Ziva returned, checking her watch. “It’s four in the morning here, which makes it ten pm in DC.” she informed him, getting up from the couch. “You have a text message.”

Tony reached out to grab his cell from the nightstand, frowning at the bright display.

_Would appreciate it if you stopped undressing in front of her._

Oops. He had belatedly realized that Ziva hadn’t closed the door to the bathroom when he’d started to undress, and hearing McGee had made her run straight to the laptop. So really, only half of her seeing him in underwear had been his fault. Though Tony doubted that it had shocked her that much, she was, after all, engaged to one Timothy McGee.

“Wanna trade?” he offered as he sat up, running a hand through his hair. Ziva took a sip of her water, lifting an eyebrow in silent question. “You take the bed for the rest of the night, I take the couch. I think I had enough sleep.”

At that, his partner looked away, taking great care to screw the cap back on the bottle before she placed it back in the mini fridge.

“Lying in a bed will not magically make me fall asleep.” she pointed out to him, but still taking a step towards it. She hesitated briefly before walking the entire distance and sitting down at the foot of the bed.

“You haven’t slept on the plane, either. You were just, staring off into space.” Tony said softly, wondering if McGee would know if he reached out and touched her shoulder, squeezed it to offer some sort of physical comfort. He hated seeing her like this; Ziva was his friend and seeing her suffer like this, it just made him feel angry and useless. Maybe he should have offered his part on this mission to McGee, at least Tim would have known what to do when she got like this. Perhaps Ziva wouldn’t have shut him out so completely like she did Tony.

“I was thinking. About… my father.” she admitted softly, reaching up to pinch the bridge of her nose. “And that I wish Tim were here.” she added.

“It’s not that late. You could call him, video chat…”

Ziva shook her head at his suggestion.

“All that would do would be reminding me how many miles are currently between us, that I can’t touch him. That I’m, alone.”

“You’re not alone, Ziva.” Tony protested, scooting closer. “You got me, and you got Gibbs and Vance and McGee and Abby. And yeah, they’re an ocean away, but we’re all trying to find Bodnar.” he added. “You even got Orli. Sorta.” he tilted his head as Ziva wrinkled her nose.

“Now she is one woman I would rather not have.”

Tony watched her carefully, searching her face.

“There’s a story there, isn’t it?” he asked her and Ziva swallowed.

“We’ve known each other.” she told him, her eyes flickering to the pillows behind him. Tony took that as his cue and got up, stretching before he went to find his iPod. He hadn’t bothered to upgrade after Abby had made the team gifts of them a few years back. All he used it for was listening to some music sometimes. He didn’t even really know why he had packed it, maybe because he had figured that a six hour flight could get boring, and that maybe he’d need something to drone out Ziva’s snoring during their stay…

He switched it on and went through his music collection, smiling to himself when he found it. Tony selected the playlist and then went back to the bed, holding out the device to Ziva. The Israeli frowned at him before taking the iPod.

“What am I supposed to do with that?” she asked him, glancing at the screen briefly.

“Abby put some movie scores on there when she gave it to me. I added a couple afterwards. They’re all instrumental, no incessant voices bugging you. Helps me fall asleep sometimes.” he shrugged. Ziva looked up at him before glancing back at the iPod and he saw her swallow thickly before she reached for the headphones, putting them in before she laid back, closing her eyes as the music filled her ears.

Tony had just settled back on the couch and found a comfortable position when she called out to him.

“Huh?” he asked, wondering if he should sit up.

“Thank you.” Ziva muttered softly.

“You’re welcome.” he responded in a whisper, closing his eyes. He was just about to drift off again when the first soft snore sounded from the bed, making him smile to himself.


	28. 10x22 tag

Ziva flinched away when he dapped at the cut on her lip.

“Stop that.” she muttered, taking the tissue from his hand and pressing it to the wound herself. It had stopped bleeding as bad as it had an hour ago, but now it stung every time she moved her mouth.

“Sorry.” Tim whispered, reaching up to brush a strand of hair from her face. She rolled her eyes at him and got up from the autopsy table.

“I am not a child, Timothy.” she reminded him, throwing away the bloody tissue and grabbing the bottle of painkillers Palmer had set down on the desk. She shook two into her palm and swallowed them before grabbing Ducky’s cup and walking over to the sink to fill it with water and wash the medication down.

“Shouldn’t you wait with that until Ducky has checked you out?” he asked her, frowning at her back in worry. She had been favoring her arm since the accident, but now he hadn’t seen her move it at all since they had found her on the ship. Oh God, he had been so worried about her. When the body had come flying past them, his heart had actually stopped, until he had recognized Bodnar lying on the crate and Ziva had shown up on the deck, bruised and battered but alive. He’d raced up the stairs, past the others to get to her then and hugged her, yelling at her about how stupid and reckless she had been and pleading with her to never, ever scare him like this again.

Gibbs had given them a few minutes on the ship before insisting they return to the Navy Yard, and he had waited outside Vance’s office as Ziva told the man that the guy responsible for Jackie’s death was dead, that this hunt for revenge was finally over.

But looking at her now, at how defeated she seemed, the way her shoulders slumped and how she didn’t meet his eyes for one second, Tim was pretty sure that this whole thing was far from over. He knew that this hadn’t been the first time she’d gone on a journey for revenge, and when she had mentioned some other agent doing the same thing a while back, Ziva had acknowledged that, once the need for revenge was satisfied, the person that had gone looking for it was usually left with a feeling of emptiness or numbness.

He went over to her and took the cup from her hands when she had emptied it, setting it down into the sink.

“I am glad you are alive.” Tim muttered, pressing a kiss to the corner of her mouth, trying not to touch the cut on her lip. Ziva sighed against his lips and he felt her arms come up to hug him.

“I am sorry, for scaring you.” she whispered into his shirt. “But when you said you had figured out where the ship was, I just… it was something I had to do.” she told him. Tim swallowed thickly.

“You really had to kill him?” he asked her softly, feeling Ziva stiffen in his arms before she leaned back, breaking the contact.

“I did not mean to.” she admitted, reaching up to rub a hand over her forehead and flinching at the pain that caused. “We were fighting, he tried to choke me with a chain, but I got him off me… I did not go there to kill Ilan. I wanted to hurt him, yes, I wanted to see him suffer. But I wanted to know that he was suffering. I wanted him behind bars, paying for my father’s death every hour he spent rotting in prison.”

“Well, I don’t think he’s going to spend any time there now.” Tim pointed out. “After Palmer and Ducky have scratched his remains off that crate-”

“I hit him. I jabbed at his clavicle and he backed away, only he lost his footing… I tried to catch him, but I was too slow.” Ziva shook her head. “He had already gone over when I reached the railing.”

Tim searched her face and reached up to stroke her cheek.

“Well, he’s dead now. You don’t have to worry about him any more.” he muttered, gently forcing her to look at him. “Time to look forward, move on.”

He watched Ziva swallow thickly before she opened her mouth. For a second, it looked like she wanted to say something, but then she closed her mouth again, a forced smile appearing on her lips before she gave him a nod.

“Yes, let’s just, leave this behind us.” she muttered, reaching up to wrap her arms around him before she hid her face in Tim’s chest, taking a deep breath.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know updating has taken me forever, and I am sorry about that. I wasn't happy with this chapter in particular, but lacking the energy to re-do it, and after the news of Cote leaving I was just in shock and couldn't write a single word for this for days. Apologies. To make up for it, I will post the rest of this now.


	29. 10x23 tag

Her heart hammering in her throat didn’t help any as Ziva reached up to pinch the bridge of her nose in an attempt to keep the tears and raging headache at bay.

“Tell me the guy was just fishing. That you told him to go to hell because of how ridiculous that accusation was.” Tony softly said, turning to her, his entire demeanor changing from when he had just driven Parsons off. The Israeli blinked repeatedly, biting her lip. “Ziva-”

“Interrogation was over ten seconds ago.” she threw at him before turning and leaving the room, making straight for the women’s restroom. Once she closed the door behind her, she leaned against it, hitting the back of her head against the metal.

How could she have been so stupid, how could she have been so weak? She loved Tim, she wanted to marry him. She never, ever had wanted to risk what they had built together. Which was why she had not mentioned her moment of weakness in Israel to him. To be honest, she had no idea how it had even happened. She’d been at the cemetery, trying to get some semblance of order to the chaos in her head, and Adam had shown up. He’d been visiting the grave of his brother when he’d seen her and wanted to express his condolences. They’d gone to lunch together. Lunch had turned into a cup of tea which had turned into a glass of wine at one of the bars they used to frequent when she’d still been in Israel, and then those had transformed into tequila shots soon enough. He’d helped her outside when they were waiting for the taxi and Ziva had wanted to thank him with a kiss on the cheek, but when she’d leaned in, he had turned his head, and she’d ended up kissing him on the lips instead. And five hours later, she’d stolen into Shmeil’s home, praying that he wouldn’t catch her sneaking in, smelling of alcohol and sex.

Her friend had not pushed her to talk about it, only commented that he hadn’t heard her come home the night before over breakfast, and Ziva had lied to him, about having been wandering the streets and forgetting the time completely. And then it had been Shabbat and she’d had the video call with Tim and regretted what she’d done. When she’d called Adam on her way to the airport, he had assured her that he was not going to tell anyone what had happened, that he understood that she wanted to keep it quiet. He even told her that he was glad he had managed to make her forget for a little, and that it changed nothing between them. He considered her a friend and all he had been wanting to do was help her out.

So knowing that Adam would never tell Tim about what had happened between them, and also being able to guess what her fiancé’s reaction would be to finding out she had slept with another man, Ziva had decided that there were some things Tim was better off not knowing about. She knew that sleeping with Adam had been a mistake, and that it would be a “one time only” kind of mistake, too. There was no point in hurting Tim’s feelings over something that she was sure was never going to happen again.

Only now someone knew. Someone who seemed to have a real interest in making people doubt her loyalty to the team. And as if that wasn’t bad enough, as if the threat of the agent looking into the entire Bodnar affair revealing what she had done in Israel to Tim, now Tony knew about it, too. Or at least he was able to guess that Ziva hadn’t reacted to an empty threat like this.

Ziva shook her head and took a deep breath. She walked over to the sinks and turned on the cold water, splashing her face before she grabbed a few paper towels and dried it again. She checked her reflection, giving herself a glare. She had gotten herself into this mess. Now it was time to do some damage control.

* * *

“Sorry, too loud?” Tim asked, looking up at her when Ziva turned off his music in Observation.

“No.” she shook her head slowly. “But I need to talk to you and…” she trailed off, drawing a shuddering breath. “What I said, about Parsons fishing…” she began and swallowed when Tim closed his laptop, all his attention on her. She’d have preferred to have this conversation at home, but they were running out of time, and she didn’t like what was happening one bit.

“Hey, don’t let him get to you.” her fiancé told her, reaching out to squeeze her hand as Ziva had sat down next to him. She carefully pulled it back, crossing her arms and hugging herself. “Ziva?”

“He’s not. Fishing.” she told him, taking a deep breath before she looked into Tim’s eyes again.

“What do you mean?” he asked, furrowing his brows as he tried to catch up.

“I… did something. When I was in Israel to bury my father’s body.” Ziva said, gathering her courage and deciding that dragging this out was just being cruel. The way to go about this was like ripping off a band-aid. Just tell him what she’d done, confess to him and hope he wasn’t done with her.

“I slept with Adam.” she revealed, holding her breath. Tim blinked at her, once, twice, before he shifted. He put the laptop aside and stood, crossing the room.

“You did what?” he asked her, his voice low. Even in the dimly-lit room, Ziva could see the tears swimming in his eyes and the tiniest flicker of hope, that maybe he had just misheard and she hadn’t just admitted to having had sex with another man.

“I met him at the cemetery. We had lunch together and then a few drinks. I kissed him and then went to his apartment with him. It was the only time I had sex with him, and the only time I had sex with someone else since we started seeing each other.”

Tim shook his head, pressing the heel of his hand over his eye.

“I suppose I should be grateful for that?” he snapped at her, causing Ziva to close her eyes when she heard the pain in his voice. “That you only strayed once, with someone who was pretty much a stranger to you. I guess I’m lucky you didn’t run into Malachi.”

“Don’t be cruel.” Ziva whispered, drawing a slow breath.

“Why, because that’s your domain?” McGee threw back at her before he paused, his hand curling into fists at his sides as he took a deep breath. “Get out.” he finally pressed out between clenched treeth. Ziva’s eyes flew open and she stared at him in shock.

“Tim-”

“I need to finish this,” he said, gesturing towards the laptop as his voice shook with emotion, “and right now, I really can’t stand to look at you.”

Ziva let out a soft sniffle as she rose, walking over to the door, but hesitating.

“I want to tell you that I love you, but I feel like you aren’t going to believe me right now.”

“You’re right about that.” Tim nodded, resolutely wiping away a tear that had made it past his control.

“Then perhaps you can believe that I honestly never wanted to hurt you?” she tried, watching him. Tim bit his lip, staring at his screen wordlessly, apparently having decided on just ignoring her. Ziva swallowed thickly, inclining her head.

“I’ll, I’ll find somewhere else to sleep tonight.” she muttered before she left Observation, pulling the door shut behind her.


	30. filler up to 10x24

Allie’s soft whine pulled Ziva from her thoughts, causing the Israeli to jump slightly. She blinked slowly, the room coming into focus again. When she turned her head, she saw the Golden Lab stand in the doorway to the hallway, her tail between her legs, whining again.

“Come here, girl.” Ziva called out to her, but instead of obeying, Allie took off down the hallway and a few seconds later, Ziva heard her scratching on the front door. With a sigh, the Israeli got up and grabbed the dog’s favorite toy, hoping to lure her away and distract her.

Tim had beaten her to the apartment after Parsons had taken Gibbs with him. When Ziva arrived, she had found him hastily packing an overnight bag. He’d told her he’d sleep at Tony’s tonight, apparently having talked to the man on the phone from the car. When Ziva tried to get him to stay, he’d just shaken his head, telling her that staying in the apartment would just remind him of what she’d done, that all he’d be able to think about would be what she was doing right then, if she was sleeping with another man…

The words had hurt. Not the sting that she had felt at NCIS, when she had first confessed her actions to him, but this time it had been more like someone was driving a dagger through her heart.

She knew she had screwed up, but even with that knowledge, she wouldn’t have predicted his reaction, how he could suddenly grow so incredibly cold and distant. Any illusion that they’d be fine that she might have managed to cling to went out the window when Tim had gotten Jethro’s leash and taken the German Shepherd with him.

Ziva was tempted to call Tony and ask him to either bring Jethro back or allow Allie to stay the night, too. Between missing one of her two masters, and her best friend, Ziva was starting to worry what that might do to the dog. They’d come such a long way with her, in so short a time, she didn’t want to risk any setbacks. And surely, it would be better if Allie just missed her, instead of two people. Well, one person and a dog, that was.

“It’s just you and me, Allie.” she told the dog, sitting down in the hallway and running her hand through the dog’s soft fur. “Just the two of us tonight.” Ziva muttered, blinking against the tears that were welling up in her eyes. She knew that this wasn’t going to get fixed in one night. Tim was mad, and he had every right to be. She had slept with another man, and what was worse, she had lied about having done it. She’d deceived him. Twice; once about the night she’d spent with Adam, and then about what she was doing in her off-hours, when she was supposedly at the gym. No wonder Tim didn’t feel like he could trust her and believe her words any longer, after all she had spent the past few weeks proving rather splendidly how terrific of a liar she was. To him, to the team, _everyone_ , even herself.

* * *

Tim shook his head and took a sip of the beer Tony had pressed into his hands the moment he was through the door.

“You know, I don’t wanna defend what Ziva did-”

“Then don’t.” Tim snapped at the other man. He got up from the couch and paced through the room, rubbing his free hand over his face. “I don’t get it.” he mumbled, shaking his head again. “Why would she do this? She knew I was just an ocean away. But when she was in Israel, she didn’t call, not for  six days. And I knew it, I knew something was up, but I let it slide. I thought it was just her father’s death. She stayed at Gibbs’s house when she came back, for crying out loud!” he exclaimed, hitting his hand against the wall. “I guess she had to get her act together, so I wouldn’t find out immediately.”

Tony remained silent, contemplating the other man as he took a swing of his own beer.

“You know, I saw them interact in Berlin. Ziva and Eschel, I mean.” he slowly said, watching as McGee turned and glared at him. “I never thought that there was anything more than friendship between them.” the older man shrugged. “And yeah, you’re right, she’s good at hiding stuff. But she’s not that good. Her and Malachi, that screamed sexual tension. Her and Eschel? That didn’t, I never got that feeling from either one of them.”

Tim took a deep breath, shaking his head.

“So, what are you saying?” he asked his friend. “That she’s not usually attracted to him, he was just conveniently there and looking attractive when she wanted a quick fuck?”

Tim shook his head and reached up to rub his hand over his face.

“I keep thinking, if it would have been different. You know, if she’d told me immediately. After it happened, or right away when she came back…”

“And?”

The younger man let out a sigh.

“I think we would have broken up then.” he admitted, flopping down in the armchair. “She was pushing me away after her father’s death, kept me at arm’s length. I think I’d drawn the consequences immediately.”

“And now?” Tony asked him, watching the younger man.

“I love her.” Tim muttered, pinching the bridge of his nose. “I do, I love her, more than anyone else in the entire world.”

“I can hear that but coming from miles away.”

“I’m not sure if I can forgive her, Tony.” Tim admitted, his voice husky with unshed tears. “How could she do this? It’s not even that she slept with him so much as… I was _there_. When she was hurting the most, right after it happened. And all she did was push me away again and again. And then she goes to Israel and suddenly she feels so alone that she can’t stand it and has to sleep with some other guy? I don’t get it, I really don’t.”

Tony shrugged before he shook his head.

“You’re a good guy, McGee.” he told his friend. “I’ve seen you two together for almost two years. I know you love each other, your reactions when either one of you is in danger is enough proof of that. And I honestly can’t remember a time when Ziva was this happy, with anyone.”

“So I should forgive her?” Tim inquired, furrowing his brows. He really had no idea what he was supposed to do. But Tony shook his head.

“I didn’t say that.” he pointed out. “If you think you can’t… I just, I guess what I’m saying is that maybe you shouldn’t throw away the two years and the work it took for you two to get here.”

“Ziva was the one who threw it away.” Tim shook his head. “Right when she climbed into Eschel’s bed.”

“Do you really want to lose her? Have her walk out of your life, or walk out of hers? Go back to not even being friends, but only colleagues?”

“I didn’t say that.” Tim defended himself at the sudden harshness in Tony’s voice.

“Then maybe it’s time to figure out what exactly it is that you want.” the Senior Field Agent shrugged before getting up from the couch to get himself another beer and leaving Tim alone to ponder his thoughts.

What he wanted, most of all, was to trust her. He wanted to believe Ziva, wanted to take what she said as the truth. But the past few weeks had made him suspicious of her actions again. First she completely went behind his back, lied to him for weeks and rented a small apartment to pursue her private vendetta. He had known that something was up, that there was something she wasn’t telling him, but he’d figured that it had to do with her therapy sessions with Cranston and decided not to push her into talking, lest she shut him out again.

Then there was Bodnar’s death. Ziva had told him that killing the man hadn’t been her intention, and he’d believed her, but now? Now he wasn’t so sure about that any more. He wanted to believe her, yes, but… why would she go after the man on her own, when all she had wanted to do was arrest him? It didn’t make sense, and now his gut was churning again, like it had when she’s started spending a lot more time at the “gym”.

And Israel, Israel was the icing on the cake. With Ziva’s confession, everything, their entire relationship had crumbled to the ground, it seemed. It hurt and it made him so incredibly angry, not just that she would do this, but lie about it without batting an eye. Everything combined, it made Tim wonder what else his fiancé might be keeping from him. In the past, he’d have just shaken his head and told himself he was paranoid, that there was nothing else. But now he wasn’t so sure about it. And if Ziva had no problem lying about these rather big things, who was he to believe that she hadn’t lied about other stuff, too? Maybe she had even lied about being in love with him, maybe the only thing she saw in him was someone to spend the time with until someone better came along.


	31. 10x24 tag

The keys to the apartment felt heavy in her hand as Ziva shifted on her feet. She had wanted to leave when Tim had shown up, give him space, but her legs had refused to obey her and made her follow him to the bedroom instead.

 “So you, slept with her.” she said, swallowing thickly. Tim looked up sharply from where he was sorting through his dirty clothes on the bed.

“What?”

“Delilah. I mean, that’s how she gave you the information on Parsons, right? You had, sex, with her.”

Tim ground his teeth before grabbing his dirty shirts and walking to the bathroom to put them in the washing machine.

“Do you feel better now?” Ziva pressed when he came back, unable to stop herself. “I mean, you paid me back. I suppose you must feel-”

“I didn’t.” he interrupted her with a glare. “I never even kissed her. I know Delilah from MIT, she was my roomie’s girlfriend who owed me a huge favor. I decided to cash it in. No kissing or sex involved.”

Ziva’s eyes widened and she blinked at him in surprise.

“Oh.” she breathed, swallowing thickly. “I’m sorry, I thought-”

“I thought about it.” Tim admitted. “She’s attractive, really. And she let me know she was interested.” he told her, taking some perverse satisfaction in the hurt that washed over Ziva’s face.

“Then why didn’t you?” his fiancée asked, her voice soft. She almost wished he had done it. Then perhaps she would stop feeling so damn guilty for what she had done to him herself. Could hide behind him doing the same thing to her, as payback.

“When she was about to kiss me, I remembered how I felt. In Observation, when you told me you had slept with Adam.” he told her, watching as Ziva took a shuddering breath. “And I knew I couldn’t do that to you.”

The Israeli closed her eyes for a moment before she cleared her throat. When she looked at him again, he could still see the tears swimming in her eyes.

“Do you, do you want me to leave?” she asked him, her voice husky. “I mean, not just for as long as you need to wash your clothes, obviously.”

Tim watched her carefully. It wasn’t the first time that Ziva offered him to stay at the apartment while she found another place to sleep, and it also wasn’t the first time that it sounded a lot like she was offering to move out. He’d been sleeping on Tony’s couch for a week, he was getting stiff from it, and the other man’s antics didn’t help his mood any.

And what was more, he missed her. He missed Ziva, despite everything. He missed sleeping next to her, missed waking up to find her rummaging around in the kitchen, missed slipping into the shower to her when she came back from her morning run…

But he still wasn’t sure about her. He wasn’t sure about anything any more. He had believed her, believed her every word, only for it to turn out that she had no problem lying to him and keeping things a secret from the person she was supposed to love, the person she had asked to marry her.

“I don’t know what I want.” he finally settled on something to say, sinking down on the bed and hiding his face in his hands. He heard her keys jiggle when Ziva moved and felt the bed dib a little when she sat down on it, too, though far enough away that they weren’t touching. He hadn’t touched her since he’d found out about Eschel, he suddenly realized, and it made him want to reach out and stroke her cheek or hold her hand, anything just to feel the contact of her skin…

“I know there is no excuse for what I did.” Ziva muttered softly and Tim lowered his hands to watch her pinch the bridge of her nose. “Not just for sleeping with Adam, but for also keeping it from you. I should have told you from the start, but I didn’t. I guess I was afraid, of losing you because of a stupid mistake.”

“It was more than that.” Tim shook his head. “It’s not just Eschel, it’s… everything.” he told her, blinking. “You lied to me, Ziva. You lied to me about so many things, and you did it for weeks. And I thought I could trust you. I knew something was up with you, but I didn’t push because… you’re my fiancée. I trusted that if it was something serious, you’d come to me immediately. I thought it was your sessions with Cranston that left you like this, that that’s what you were keeping from me.” Tim swallowed, deciding to voice the thought that had been circling in his head for the past few days now.

“How am I supposed to marry you when I am not sure if I can trust you ever again?”

Ziva clenched her eyes shut to stop the tears that sprang to her eyes at his words.

“I don’t know.” she breathed, shaking her head sadly.

* * *

“Allie, come on.” Tim sighed in frustration, trying to get the dog to sit still in the tub. “What has gotten into you?” he asked the Golden Lab when Allie let out a bark and stood up again, attempting to get away from his hands as Tim tried putting the shampoo into her fur. He had taken her for a walk earlier, and she had found a patch of mud from the recent rains and rolled in it, leaving him to attempt to get rid of it by giving the dog a bath. It wouldn’t have been fair to dump that on Ziva, since it had been him that had let the dog have fun.

She was normally well-behaved but for the past few hours, Allie’d been acting crazy. Ever since Tim had taken her for that walk, actually. He’d never have guessed it, given how attached Allie seemed to be to Ziva, but apparently the dog had really missed him and Jethro while they were gone.

“Do you need a-” Ziva offered, walking into the bathroom, and promptly causing Allie to jump out of the tub and jump up at her, getting soap all over her jeans and dirty soap suds on the floor.

“Allie!” Tim exclaimed, cursing loudly as Ziva laughed and grabbed the dog’s collar, pulling her back over and getting her into the tub.

“I’m sorry.” she giggled, sitting down next to Tim. “I should have anticipated that.” she apologized, running her hands through Allie’s fur and giving her a good scrub.

“Yeah, but I could actually use your help.” Tim admitted, grabbing the shower head and turning on the water to start rinsing the dog as Ziva tried to get her to stand still.

When they were finally done with getting Allie cleaned up, both Ziva and Tim were soaked, the dog having attempted to dry her fur by shaking herself more than once, and sending the water droplets flying at her owners.

“Off you go.” Tim told the dog, opening the bathroom door to let her out.

“That was fun.” Ziva declared, accepting his hand and allowing Tim to pull her up from the floor. When she realized how close to him she was suddenly standing, her breath hitched in her throat she and blinked slowly before taking a step back.

“Maybe we should turn that into our new professions.” Tim suggested. “Open up some dog wash salon kind of thing.”

Ziva gave a soft chuckle at that idea before sobering. Unlike Tim, she didn’t really have a set of skills she could use outside of law enforcement or the private sector.

“What are we going to do, though?” she asked him, watching as Tim sighed and hung up the towel they had used to dry Allie.

“I don’t know. I mean, I finished the book, and my publisher’s going to get it next week, but I don’t know if that’s what I want to do. Never mind that any other agency is bound to reject us, thanks to manner of our resignation.”

Ziva nodded in agreement. “Yes. But I do not regret doing it.”

“Neither do I.” Tim agreed, reaching out to touch her hand gently. “And I don’t regret us.” he muttered, stroking his index finger over the back of Ziva’s hand. The Israeli turned hers and carefully entwined their fingers. It was the most intimate contact they’d had in a week, ever since she’d told him about her dalliance with Eschel.

“I thought you did.” she admitted, her voice barely audible. “That you never wanted to see me again. And I would have understood.”

“I love you too much for that.” Tim shook his head, giving her hand a squeeze as he stepped closer, leaning down to rest his forehead against Ziva’s. He closed his eyes and took a slow breath as Ziva’s eyes also fluttered shut.

“I miss you.” she muttered, turning her head a little so she could brush her nose against his. “The apartment is empty without you. _My life_ is empty without you.”

Tim let go of her hand and wrapped his arms around her, pulling her in as he kissed her. He felt Ziva tense briefly in surprise before she melted against him and returned the kiss. He’d felt so lost without her these past days, without being able to touch her, and kissing her now felt like he was coming home from a long and exhausting trip.

“I have these tickets.” Ziva murmured against his lips when he finally broke the kiss. “For Saturday. The Alexandria Symphony Orchestra.” she told him, a soft smile tugging on her lips. “Wanna be my date?”

He felt a smile tug on his lips before he nodded.

“Yeah, that sounds like it could be fun.” he agreed. Ziva leaned up again to brush her lips over his, her hand stroking his cheek gently.

“I love you, Timothy.” she breathed before resting her head on his chest, her fingers twisting into the fabric of his shirt. She knew that this was far from over, that they couldn’t just miraculously go back to how things had been before she’d told him about Israel, about Eschel. But at least now she had a reason to hope that instead of her mistakes ending up destroying them, they’d get through it. Together.

_fin._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And thus concludes "Farther Than You Can Throw". Thank you, everyone who has read this.


End file.
